When a Beauty Makes a Deal with a Beast
by AnEloquentFacade
Summary: This is Belle's narrative of her day-to-day life in the Dark Castle, and what happens to her when she is told to leave. What if she became lost in the woods and was never captured? Taking place during "Skin Deep" 01x12
1. Chapter 1: You Have My Word

**Chapter 1: "You Have My Word"**

I had always wanted to be brave—to do something heroic that people would remember. Being the daughter of a ruler afforded me a greater opportunity than most women had to do something—to do anything—beyond the everyday expectations of raising a family, but I was still limited. I was still caged.

I felt it even more with the current war. Every day the cries and smoke of the battle with the ogres drew closer to the heart of our kingdom; the grounds were drenched with the blood of our people. And I was powerless to change it. We were desperate to gain some ground, to win at least some part of the war, but nothing was working.

My father, Sir Maurice, had just finished another council meeting in hopes of making some progress in the war. I could tell by his expression that the meeting had not brought about any new insights or solutions for the war. His hope was dying; I could see defeat etched into his solemn face. I joined him in the council room as many of the council members left, "Father, any news?"

"No good news, I'm afraid. I can think of no solution we haven't already tried. Men are no match for ogres." He was right; in size alone we were unevenly matched, but add in the weapons that the ogres possessed and I could see no way that men could beat them… not without magic anyway.

"Papa, the council couldn't think of _any_ new tactics?" He sighed in exasperation, shaking his head, "we've tried new military formations, strengthened our weapons, and even Gaston has run out of ideas."

I hesitated before responding, knowing that the suggestion could cause even more turmoil to my father after a fruitless meeting, but we were running out of land, out of lives, and out of time to not even consider asking for _his_ help.

"Father, may I speak freely?" He looked up at me curiously, knowing that if I were to ask permission to speak then the contents of the conversation may be considered imprudent for a woman to take part in. "You may." He replied after surveying the room and seeing that all of the other council members had already cleared out.

"If all other avenues of securing our people have been exhausted, I can think of one path we have not yet tried."

"Why have you not brought this suggestion up before, my daughter?"

"I'm afraid that this path has a rather dark and unpleasant reputation."

"In war there are many unpleasant things. I've yet to hear your suggestion."

"Yes father, but please think on this suggestion before you respond." He nodded his head and I continued, "Perhaps we should call on the Dark One."

"The Dark One is a vile creature who does not give his help freely. He cares not for our plight or for anything beyond his own means. It would be unwise to summon him here when we are so vulnerable."

"But father, we have tried everything else. If there is any chance that he may help us, that he may stop the deaths of our people I do not think that we can ignore this option."

I could see his resolve fading. He knew, as well as I, that we could not afford the loss of more life and our current techniques were not working. My heart ached for his sadness; he knew that we were running out of options other than surrender, and even then we couldn't be sure that the ogres would be merciful to those of us who remained.

I placed my hand on his arm wishing to extract his pain and provide him with even the smallest amount of hope. His other hand clasped mine, "I forget how wise you are, my daughter. While I do not like the idea of calling upon the Dark One for help, tomorrow the council will meet again and we will discuss this new option together before we attempt to summon him."

"Thank you, papa." I squeezed his hand once more before turning toward the door.

"Belle? I would like for you to join us in council tomorrow. We can waste no time in reaching a decision."

. . .

I nodded briefly and returned to my chambers. It was no small thing to be invited to the council meeting. A woman's opinion was generally not valued in military discussions; I would have to choose my words carefully to be taken seriously.

I arrived with my father just as the other members were settling in. I could hear their whispers about my presence. I had never attended council meetings before, so I could understand their cause for disturbance.

"Gentlemen, I apologize for pulling you from your duties for another council meeting so soon after our last, but something has been brought to my attention and I felt it imperative to discuss this manner with you at once." My father had captured their attention but I could still see the other members casting glances at me.

He paid them no mind and continued on, "yesterday, my daughter" he gestured to me, "held an audience with me to discuss the kingdom's current despair. In this discussion, she brought up a suggestion that we have not yet attempted. Although her suggestion has merit, I did not want to go any farther without getting some input from this very council."

An older man stood up as he spoke, "What can a woman have to say that our land's top military strategists and soldiers could not?"

I held my tongue as a few other men added comments and nods of agreement. They had every right to question me, even if they were being insufferable and close-minded about it.

"Gentlemen!" My father called as he held up his hand. "As my daughter, Belle is privy to nearly everything that happens in this kingdom; she has poured through our history books and has seen firsthand the damage of the war while providing medical triage to our soldiers. Now before we waste breath discussing **why** my daughter is here, let us first discuss what she has to **say**."

I did my best to keep from smirking; my father was always my champion, but my breath caught in my throat as I realized that every eye in the room was focused upon me. It was now or never.

"Gentlemen, I want to thank you for your time. Our kingdom has had a long history of victory on the battlefield, but our struggles with the ogres have ventured far beyond the realm of what we are used to. As such, I believe it is time we consider using warfare from another realm. We should summon the Dark One."

They seemed to be following along with me up until the last three words.

After that the room erupted in shouts of dissent in every tone of voice, from every direction. It was too much and too loud. I couldn't even follow what they were saying to make a retort. The Dark One definitely inspired a great sense of fear.

I saw the resignation on my father's face as the council members questioned not only my suggestion, but my father for even considering it. They weren't being reasonable. I was sure that none of them had even bothered to see how this could save us.

In a few moments, the suggestion would be lost and the council meeting over. I had to regain their attention. I had to make them understand.

"If we could just-"

I wasn't even sure that I had spoken the words; I could not hear them above the constant interjections about the Dark One's evil powers.

I had nearly given up when I heard a strong voice silence the others, "ENOUGH! I believe Lady Belle has been trying to speak. You will silence your useless outbursts and listen to my fiancé."

Gaston had been invaluable to the council and to the kingdom. His strategies, though not effective in killing the ogres, had at least helped to slow the rates at which our soldiers were dying. His heroic gestures and military accomplishments had endeared him to many in our kingdom.

As such my father believed he would receive no better offer for my hand when Gaston had asked for it. I was told of my betrothal to Gaston a few weeks ago. If not for the chaos the ogre wars caused we would already be wed, but as a prominent military leader, Gaston had other duties to attend to first.

I wanted to believe that Gaston had spoken up because he believed in me and my suggestion, but I knew better. As Gaston's fiancé I was an extension of him and his reputation; he was asserting his influence because, very soon, all of my actions would reflect upon him as well.

The council members reluctantly held their tongues. Though the idea of listening to me and my apparently outrageous suggestion was not favorable to them, they had too much respect for Gaston to continue speaking.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. My argument had to be reasonable and strategic in order to for the council to even pretend to consider calling upon the Dark One.

"I know that none here would like to bring the wrath of the Dark One upon us, but at that same token, we can all agree that his wrath is unmatched, and once a deal is struck with the Dark One it is not broken. What do we stand to lose from entering in an agreement with _him_ that we have not already lost from the ogres on the battlefields? Our kingdom was prosperous, and even if his price is all of our gold how is that more valuable than the lives of our people? If we stand any chance against the ogres it is clear that it is not with weapons we have forged. I will gladly withdraw this suggestion if any of you have another way to end our daily horrors."

I sat quite abruptly. It was both liberating and nerve-wrecking to have said my piece, and now all I could do was hope that the council members were convinced enough to move forward.

"My daughter is not ignorant of the consequences that might occur from approving this action, but we have ended countless meetings with no viable solution. I urge you to vote yea, and summon the Dark One to end this war."

. . .

In the days that followed I scarcely left my quarters. The summons had been sent to the Dark One and the only thing that had changed in our lands was the continuous rising number of men fallen.

I poured over volumes of histories hoping to find a glimmer of something, of anything that might illuminate the Dark One, but every entry I found was vague and superficial. In the end, I had learned nothing beyond a warning of his great and terrible power.

I was yet again perusing a book when Gaston and another soldier entered my father's study. They had news from the battlefield.

"Avonlea has fallen."

This was terrible. Avonlea was our last stronghold.

In the silence that followed this announcement I knew that my father had all but given up.

"If only he had come." Gaston said solemnly.

"But he didn't!" My father retorted. It must be a terrible burden to be responsible for the lives of so many and yet to have no means of protecting them.

"We have to do something. We have to stop them." Gaston continued.

As a leader in our war efforts, he knew that we could not waste time, not now, after such devastating news, but how would we move forward? Every step we took set us back three more.

"Ogres are not men. They are unstoppable." My father muttered out the words as he sank into his chair. It killed me to see him so hopeless.

"He could be on his way right now, papa." I looked into his eyes as he sighed, "It's too late, my girl. It's just too late."

It was then that we heard a pounding on the doors to the study. I was renewed with hope, "It's him! It has to be him."

"How could he get past the walls?" My father asked as we made our way to the doors. "Open them!" The guards flung open the doors but there was no one there. It was then that we heard a voice from behind us.

Sitting in my father's chair was none other than Rumplestiltskin, the Dark One.

"Well, that was a bit of a let down. You sent me a message. Something about, 'help! Help! We're dying. Can you save us?' Well, the answer is yes, I can. Yes, I can protect your little town… for a price."

I was nervously excited. He had come. He could save us. Finally, things would change.

"We sent you a promise of gold." My father said, regaining his composure as he stood toe-to-toe with the Dark One.

Somehow, he didn't seem as ominous as everyone had warned. Certainly there was something commanding in his presence, but his movements were so fluid and relaxed. I was more relieved than afraid.

"Ah, but you see, I make gold. What I want is a bit more special. My price is her." Rumplestiltskin replied pointing his finger straight at me. I have to admit that I was quite taken aback. What could he possibly want with me? As soon as the words were out of his mouth I felt myself being pushed back by Gaston's arm.

"No. The young lady is engaged to me."

Rumplestiltskin continued on, uninterested, "I didn't ask if she was engaged. I'm not looking for _love_. I'm in need of a caretaker for my rather large estate. It's her or no deal."

My father wasted no time in refusing him. "Get out. Leave!"

From my stance behind Gaston I saw Rumplestiltskin give a smirk and a noncommittal head nod as he began heading toward the door, "As you wish."

That was it?

After all of the arguing and council meetings—after all of the deaths of our people? The Dark One had been here for only a moment and now he was leaving. How would our people be protected? How could we possibly stand a chance against the ogres now? He was our only chance. I had to fix this. I had to do something.

"No wait!" I pushed Gaston's arm out of my way and stepped forward. "I will go with him." My declaration caused immediate protest from Gaston and my father, but I could see no other way. I had been the one to ask the Dark One to be summoned, and if his price was me, I would be the one to pay it.

"No one decides my fate but me. I shall go."

"It's forever, dearie." Rumplestiltskin stepped toward me, his stance was relaxed but his eyes danced with excitement.

I watched him carefully, "My friends, my family, they'll all live?" I needed to be sure. My only care was for their safety.

"You have my word."

"Then you have mine. I will go with you … forever."

"Deal!"

I felt my father's hand on mine. "Belle, you cannot do this. You cannot go with this, this beast!"

I clasped his hand tightly, steadying myself. I wasn't sure how much more time I would have with him, but there was no time to falter now. "Father, Gaston, it's been decided."

I could see the sadness grow in my father's eyes as he realized the full meaning of my words. The deal had been struck, and everyone knew that Rumplestiltskin never broke a deal once it was struck.

After that, everything happened at a dizzying pace: I could feel Rumplestiltskin's hand on my back as he led me away from my father, away from my fiancé, and away from my home, forever.

I had saved my people, but what would happen to me now?


	2. Chapter 2: My Room? It's Just a Cup

**Chapter 2: "My Room?!" / "It's Just a Cup"**

I wasn't sure how it happened, or how long it had taken, but I found myself standing in an unfamiliar foyer. My head was pounding and my hands were stiff. I could feel the fabric of my skirt in my left hand and the crescent mark indentations my fingernails had left in the palm of my right hand.

There was warmth on my right wrist. I glanced down in time to see Rumplestiltskin's hand releasing me. He must have used magic to transport us to his castle. I should have expected it, but it unsettled me to have no idea where I was or how far I had traveled away from my home—well from the kingdom that used to be my home.

I lived here now.

A large set of doors opened as we approached. It took a moment for me to realize that they opened by magic. I would have to remember that I would probably witness a lot of magic staying with the Dark One.

He stepped through the entryway and I followed a half-step behind him. As uncomfortable as magical transportation had made me, it was probably far more comfortable than having a prolonged journey with the Dark One—I doubted he was much for conversation.

I did my best to take in my surroundings, but his castle was far more ornate than I anticipated. There were elaborate tapestries hanging from the walls, odd trinkets placed about on pedestals, plush carpets softening the hardwood and stone floors, and heavy, brocaded curtains on every window: there was no way to tell what time of day it was.

He walked onward with purpose.

"Where are you taking me?"

He looked back at me with, what I assumed to be, a bemused expression on his gold-dusted face, "Let's call it your room."

I raised my eyebrows in astonishment. Perhaps the consequences of this deal wouldn't be too terrible after all. He was at least kind enough to give me my own room. The thought comforted me.

We continued through the castle and up a few flights of stairs. He moved quickly and I, breathing heavily, tried to keep up; my dress was heavy and the corset underneath it kept my lungs from taking in the deep breaths I longed to, but I soldiered on. How much further could it be?

He finally stopped in front of a plain wooden door with a latch in place of a knob.

This hallway had no decoration aside from the torches that hung on the wall to provide light. It was a little drafty and drab in comparison to the parts of the castle we first walked through to get here.

The door swung open and I looked inside.

"My room?!"

There must have been a mistake. It looked no bigger than a closet. There was no furniture inside—in fact there was nothing inside apart from some straw that was scattered about the stone floor. I looked at him aghast.

He smirked and pushed me inside, "it sounds a lot nicer than dungeon."

Before I could react the door swung shut and I could hear the latch drawing close.

"You can't just leave me in here!"

I heard his cackle in response.

"Hello? Hello?!"

My heart sank as his cackling grew distant, faint.

I was trapped.

. . .

_This_ is what I should have expected.

Rumplestiltskin's deals rarely benefited the person he was dealing with better than they benefited himself. I shouldn't have anticipated a comfortable stay. I had forfeited any and all luxuries of my life when I agreed to come with him forever.

But my people were safe; they were no longer dying. Staying in a dungeon was a price I would gladly pay for the lives of my friends, my family—my father. Oh, it would be difficult to be parted from him forever. He had always been my champion, my hero, but now it was my turn to be his hero. Self-pity would accomplish nothing, so I resolved to be strong. I had made my decision and now I would follow it.

I pushed the straw into a pile where I could sit. It was a poor substitute for a cushion, but it would do. I wondered how long I would be stuck in here alone.

Eventually I would be summoned to perform my duties. He had said I was to be caretaker of the estate, but what exactly would that entail? Surely, I would clean. Presumably, I would serve meals. Perhaps I would tend to the plants and grounds. Would I be permitted to go outdoors? The doors had opened by magic, were they locked by magic too?

Was there a magic spell that could keep me from running away? I had trouble believing so, but I knew very little about the limits of magic. If I could be plucked from my kingdom to this castle, couldn't I just as easily be bound here?

Oh how I wished there had been more information in the volumes I had read about the Dark One. As it turned out, I essentially knew nothing about him.

I had spent an immeasurable amount of time thinking. If he was able to pop in and out of his castle, surely it could be located _anywhere. _I wondered about the castle, where it was, how big it was, and what he kept in it.

I had an unheard of opportunity to see the Dark One in his everyday life. I would soon learn what none of the books I read could tell me. But none of that would happen until I was let out of this dungeon…

. . .

I was getting restless. I could tell that it was dusk because unlike all of the other windows in the castle, the windows in this … _room_ had no curtains, nor did they have glass. They were short, rectangular holes with iron bars intersecting the open space for support. These "windows" were set just above the level of my eyes, but on tiptoe I could see out to the surrounding lands.

The mountains were frosted with snow, and even from the height of the tower I was in I could tell that the castle was situated in a valley. The other parts of the castle that I could see glimmered in the dying daylight. The view was actually quite breathtaking.

I was looking out the window when I heard the door open.

My heart was racing, but I was more excited than scared. He peered at me with squinted eyes, like he was trying to read my thoughts.

"Come with me."

He swept out of the room as swiftly as he appeared and I did my best to follow him back through the halls and stairways. A few things looked familiar. I needed to learn my way around this place if I am to be caretaker.

He finally slowed down near a set of white double-doors.

"Through there is the kitchen. You'll find everything you need to make tea. When you're finished bring it to me through here." I nodded and he disappeared around a corner.

The kitchen was enormous.

I worried that it might take me too long to find everything, but thankfully all of the cabinets had glass fronts. It made finding things much easier. In a cabinet near one of the three sinks in this huge room I found the pieces for several tea sets. One set was ostentatiously elaborate: it had solid gold plating with sculpted scenes embossed along the face of the glass. The next one I saw was much simpler, but equally stunning. The cups were white with a thin gold trim and gold plated handles. The only design was an elegant blue flower on the face of the cup. This set, though far less ornate, held an effortless beauty that calmed me, so I chose it.

I put the tray on the counter and aligned the other pieces: cup, saucer, cream and sugar containers, and the tea pot. I steadied myself before picking up the tray and walking in the direction he pointed to earlier.

The room was spacious. Along the walls more trinkets were stationed on pedestals, suits of armor framed the doorways, and in the middle of the room stood a very long mahogany table. This is where he was, comfortably seated in fairly typical dinner chair, eyes fixed upon me.

I set the tray down on the side of the table opposite him and began to pour the tea.

"You will serve me my meals and you will clean the DarkCastle." His voice was clear and firm.

"I understand."

"You will dust my collection and launder my clothing."

"Yes." These were the types of chores I was expecting him to assign me.

"You will fetch me fresh straw when I'm spinning at the wheel."

"Got it." I was quite curious to see him spin. I had always wondered what it would look like to see ordinary straw transformed into shiny, delicate gold streams.

"Oh. And you will skin the children I hunt, for their pelts."

His response alarmed me so much that I dropped his cup of tea and it fell to carpet below the table. I stared in disbelief. I couldn't—I wouldn't!—skin children, or anybody.

He smirked slowly, "That one was a quip. Not serious."

I let out a heavy breath and unsteady laugh. "Oh. Right." I shook off the feeling of uneasiness and stooped down to retrieve the cup, but my heart sank again. As I lifted the cup I noticed a very obvious, v-shaped chip along the top rim.

"I'm so sorry, but it's chipped." I looked up to him slowly, fearing what punishment may follow for my carelessness. He stared at me and I couldn't read his expression.

"You can hardly see it." I added hoping that he wasn't too upset.

"Well, it's just a cup." He replied in an off-hand manner and I smiled in relief. Yes, I had a feeling that this deal wouldn't be nearly as bad as I originally thought.

"I'll just fetch another cup from the kitchen." I said turning away from him, but his voice stopped me.

"No. It's no matter. Just serve me my tea. Light cream, no sugar."

He wanted to drink from the chipped cup? His gaze hardened as I stood motionless so I quickly turned back to the tray and prepared his tea in the chipped cup. I placed it in front of him and returned to the tea tray on the other side of the table. I glanced at him again and he gestured for me to sit.

. . .

It was probably the most uncomfortable tea time I had ever had. Rumplestiltskin didn't talk. Mostly, he watched me.

He would pick up his cup, swirl the tea around, take a slow sip, set the cup down, and look at me. Then he would repeat the process over.

I tried to keep my mind off of his unyielding stares by taking in as many details of the room and its unusual objects as I could. There was a wizard's hat just to the right of the table. It was navy blue and had stars and crescent moons stitched onto it. I wondered where and how he might have obtained such a thing. I was tempted to ask him, but remembered that I was not a guest here.

"Shall I fetch our supper?" I asked instead. I was definitely ready to eat something, but I still didn't understand how this arrangement would work. He already told a few of my chores—which included serving him his meals, but what about _my_ meals? Would I be joining him at the table, like I had joined him for tea? Would I be banished to eat in the kitchen? Would I even be permitted to eat the same meals he did, or would I be stuck with food scraps?

I had so many questions I longed to ask, but there was a strong power that exuded from the Dark One even as he leisurely sipped his tea. So I merely waited for his response, hoping he would give me further instruction.

"Have you much experience cooking?" His eyes seemed to narrow, it was a facial expression that gave me the impression he was trying to lift the answer out of my mind by scrutinizing my face. I remembered seeing the same expression on his face and he spoke with my father only this morning. I could tell that it was an automatic reaction for him to study people as they spoke; studying their movements to ascertain the truth. It made sense as our mannerisms were far more telling than words spoken.

I shook my head slowly. "We had a cook. I had few reasons to be in the kitchen. I have, however, read a few books about preparing foods and cooking…"

"What occasion led you to read about cooking?"

"I'm very fond of reading. And as the war waged on we had less and less access to outside materials. I've read every book I could get my hands on in the castle."

He stood up so fluidly it startled me. He approached me taking another sip of his tea and then he set the empty, chipped cup back on the tray in front of me. His presence alone was mesmerizing—terrifying, but mesmerizing.

"Follow me."

I watched him disappear around the corner before I came to my senses. I jumped up bumping the table, which caused the china to rattle. The last thing I needed to do now was to break more dishes. I took a deep breath and picked up the tray, slowly following him to the kitchen.

. . .

I added a pinch of pepper to the boiling liquid and stirred it again, then brushed the hair back from my forehead and turned toward the oven to check on the chicken. It was getting hot in the kitchen, leaning over the flames, stirring here, adding spices there. It would have been kind of peaceful if Rumplestiltskin wasn't sitting on the edge of the counter watching every move I made and correcting me when he saw fit—which was often.

"The soup needs more carrots, and you need to put those potatoes in with the chicken."

His voice filled the air with correctives so many times that I had stopped turning around to look at him when he spoke. I was definitely an amateur chef, but Rumplestiltskin knew which spices needed to be added and when, he knew how long the chicken had to be warmed, and we both knew that he would have been much better off making this meal himself. It was this thought that kept coming back into my mind as he directed my actions.

It made sense that he should know how to cook; he had lived alone for an unknown amount of time and everyone needs to eat. But why did he want me to cook for him when he was clearly superior at it? I just assumed that he would have used magic to prepare his meals and I would bring the food to him and clear the plates when he was finished.

But it was rather exciting: learning how to cook.

I cut the last potato into quarters and scooped the pieces up to add to the chicken. Then I grabbed a few more carrots from the vegetable basket, cut them, and added them to the soup. I felt a sense of accomplishment and pride. Things seemed to be going quite well for my first attempt in the kitchen.

"Let the soup warm until the chicken is done and then bring the food out to me. And I'll have some more tea while I wait."

"How long?" I asked in a panic when he slid off the counter. He was just going to leave me in here? I was somewhat enjoying myself, but I didn't want to ruin the first meal I cooked, especially not after learning about Rumplestiltskin's culinary prowess.

"How long what, dearie?" He almost looked amused, but it was hard for me to read his expressions. He could have been annoyed for all I knew.

"Um, how long until the chicken is done? I mean, how do I know?"

"When the inside is no longer pink. That's when it's done." He strode toward the door, but turned toward me to say, "don't forget the tea." Then he disappeared.

. . .

The dinner tray was much heavier than the tea tray had been, and I had to take slow, steady steps in order to keep the soup from spilling. I set the courses in front of where Rumplestiltskin sat and timidly watched him. I hoped it was cooked properly; I'd had enough mishaps with the tea set and didn't want to push leniency with my clumsiness.

I wondered what he could possibly be thinking as he stared at the food in front of him. Did I make a mistake? He held one finger up and beckoned me closer.

"Taste this."

His instructions were simple enough, but I was lost. Was this another cooking lesson? I tried to read his expression but I could not make out his intentions.

He held the spoon out to me, which I took, and, holding my hair back with my other hand, I scooped up a mouthful. For my first meal it was adequate, but nothing spectacular. I shrugged.

"I'm sorry. It isn't the most flavorful of soups. Do you wish me to add something to it?"

His eyes were narrowed and I was suddenly nervous as I realized he had been scrutinizing my expression looking for tells of some kind. I had apparently passed whatever test he had given me: after a few moments his stare softened, but not completely.

"I needed to check that you wouldn't try to poison my food as a way to escape. But just to be sure, you will eat all of the same food you serve me. My powers would delay any poisons you could find here, and I have potions to remedy the ailments, but it's much easier and quicker to see if you die first. It saves me the trouble of dealing with you afterward."

My mouth had surely dropped. He thought I might try to poison him? Clearly he had far more unscrupulous interactions with people than I could imagine. I felt my cheeks redden slightly with embarrassment. I was naïve. For all the knowledge I thought I possessed and all the books I had read, I hadn't even imagined the possibility of escape, yet he had already thought of every action to prevent any such schemes.

"You may fetch your own supper now, dearie." He had a curious look on his face, but I jumped at the opportunity to hide my face and further my embarrassment.

. . .

When I returned to the table we ate in silence. I cleared our plates and set the kitchen right before Rumplestiltskin lead me back up to my … _room_.

"I eat breakfast at nine and then you will begin your other duties."

I nodded my head in acquiescence, but I shivered as a breeze blew in from the uncovered windows. His eyes appeared vacant as he closed the door and locked me back in.

It was hard to believe I was trying to console my father about the war with the ogres only this morning. I listened to the wind howl again through the window and I tried to rub some warmth into my arms.

I turned to arrange the straw into a bed of sorts. It seemed I was more prisoner than caretaker, but even so, there was something about the Dark One that intrigued me. He was human enough to have me join him for tea and dinner, and teach me to cook, but there was always something dark lingering in his expressions that I couldn't quite understand.


	3. Chapter 3: The Spinning Wheel

**Chapter 3: The Spinning Wheel **

I managed to survive the night, but I hardly slept. The ground was cold and unyielding—even with the straw as a cushion. My limbs were stiff and my back ached. I wondered what time it was. I was to have breakfast prepared by nine, but this room held no instruments to tell time.

I tip-toed to look out the window and could see that the sun had been up long enough to fill the sky with light. I heard the faint sound of footsteps and I waited.

The door slowly swung open and Rumplestiltskin gave me a hard look before turning away and disappearing down the stairs.

I tried to follow him, but couldn't keep up. I surprised myself by how well I remembered where to go. I was tempted to further explore the castle, but I figured I should prepare breakfast first; there would be plenty of time for exploring later. After all, I am to be here _forever_.

Although I had learned where quite a few things were while making dinner, I wasn't sure where to begin for breakfast. What would he want to eat? Porridge? Eggs? Just a hot biscuit and tea? I looked through the food pantry hoping for inspiration, but found none. I finally decided to make what the cook back home usually made for me: biscuits with jam.

I found some jam and put it on the counter, but realized I didn't know how to make biscuits. Surely, it required flour. Probably milk or cream, too. Maybe salt? I haphazardly mixed some things together until I had a sticky paste in the bowl. Now, did biscuits go in the oven or on the stove?

. . .

It was disastrous! I tried to cook the biscuits on the stove, but they got stuck to the pan and then burned. By the end I only had a pile of burnt biscuit crumbs. I picked up a piece hoping that I might be able to salvage something out of the ashes, but I nearly choked on how terrible it tasted. There was a lot more to this cooking thing than I thought.

I was scraping the remnants of biscuit out of the pan when I heard someone clear their throat. I was startled by the sudden noise and dropped the pan back on the stove which resounded with a loud clang—startling me yet again.

"Easy on the goods, dearie."

I turned around slowly and saw Rumplestiltskin's indecipherable expression; his eyes hardened, watching me.

"I thought we discussed how futile it would be to try to kill me with food..."

"I was making biscuits." I replied helplessly.

I watched as he quickly surveyed the state of the kitchen. I thought I saw his mouth twitch into a very fleeting smirk.

"Biscuits? That looks like pig fodder."

He wasn't yelling, which was a good sign, I guess, but I was still embarrassed by my obvious ineptitude in the kitchen. I felt my face get hot and tears threatened to spill from my eyes. This was ridiculous. I couldn't even make breakfast! How was I going to keep my end of the deal when I couldn't even make breakfast?

I tried to rub my stiff shoulders but I couldn't reach because the corset of my big, stupid dress restricted my movements. I ached, I was tired, I was wearing the same monstrous gown from yesterday, and I couldn't cook. I stared down at my flour and paste covered hands. It was probably the worst morning of my life.

"I eat ham and potatoes for breakfast." Rumplestiltskin's reply was nonchalant, but I thought I was beginning to see the nuances of his stoic behavior. I felt that he was trying to lighten the mood. I'm sure a crying woman was the last thing any man would want to deal with.

"That's a relief." I looked up suddenly and couldn't help but laugh.

For an instant I thought I may have startled him by my reaction. He looked at me queerly.

"I thought you had read about preparing food and cooking."

"I have. Though, clearly that doesn't mean I remember the recipes." I replied sheepishly.

"We'll have to get you some cooking books to read then. If that's what becomes of your biscuits I would hate to see what you do to my lunch."

I took a deep breath and gave him a small smile. "I'll start cooking the ham and potatoes. I should be able to do that properly. Oh! Dark One?"

"Rumplestiltskin, dearie. Dark One is my business name."

"Rumplestiltskin, would you like tea first, while you wait?"

"Yes… that'll do. Use that white and blue set." He replied before slipping around the corner into the dining room.

. . .

While I cooked an edible breakfast, I caught Rumplestiltskin peeking into the kitchen a few times. I think he was afraid I might set the whole thing ablaze. I couldn't blame him after chipping a cup yesterday and the disaster that was my attempt at biscuits I didn't have a very good track record going for me.

After breakfast he had given me several thick volumes about preparing foods, recipes, and the like. I wanted to read through them immediately, but after I cleaned the plates I was given the tools I would need to begin cleaning the DarkCastle.

I was actually excited about starting these chores because it would give me the chance to begin exploring and see what other treasures this castle was hiding.

. . .

I was given a very brief tour of the areas of the DarkCastle I was expected to clean. Most of the tour was Rumplestiltskin merely pointing toward a stairway or down a hallway and telling me what I would find there, but I knew that there was more to the castle than he had shown me.

I did my best to make a mental map of where he was leading me and what he said about each section of the castle. On occasion I would ask a question about the trinkets or about my duties, but even these discussions were short lived: the Dark One was known more for his actions than his words.

On our way back through the castle we entered a room not too far away from the dining room. That's when I finally saw it: the spinning wheel. My eyes lit up. I wondered when I would get to see him use it.

"Start cleaning on the second floor. When you have finished those rooms I'll take my lunch. And take care to follow the directions in the recipe book to avoid another biscuit debacle."

He remained still until I began leaving the room. As I entered the hall I looked back and saw him take a seat at the wheel. I sighed. Soon I would be fetching his straw and watching him perform a little bit of magic to turn it into gold, but not right now.

. . .

The second floor was basically Rumplestiltskin's extended bedchamber. This floor was used exclusively for storing his personal things, sleeping, and washing up. I was pretty sure that other than while cleaning I would not be permitted to be on this floor.

I did my best to sweep and dust without disturbing anything, and although I was definitely tempted to look through his things I was more afraid that he might have magic protecting them.

Since most of the rooms on the second floor were used fairly often it only took me a few hours to finish a superficial cleaning of dusting and sweeping.

I brought the cleaning supplies to the back part of the kitchen and then began looking through my recipe books.

The books were filled with delicious ideas, but I wanted to stick with something simple until I got better at this whole cooking thing.

While I waited for the food to finish cooking I made a list of things I needed to complete. The kitchen and laundry would probably need to be tended to daily as well as the bedchambers and the lavatories. The dusting and sweeping I would break up into sections and move systematically throughout the castle.

I brought the tray of food into the dining room but Rumplestiltskin wasn't there yet. Not wanting his food to get cold, I set off toward the spinning room—hoping that I might catch a glimpse of him at work.

I slowly peeked around the corner, but my smile fell when I saw nothing but an empty room.

"What are you doing?"

I gasped and quickly turned around. Rumplestiltskin was holding a basket of straw standing behind me in the hall.

"I just finished making lunch and didn't want your food to get cold…" My cheeks flushed red at being caught trying to spy on him.

"I'll be there in a moment."

I didn't wait for him to say or do anything else before I hurried down the hall back to the dining room.

. . .

After lunch I was told to launder Rumplestiltskin's soiled clothing, which could be found in his bedchamber. I collected the items and then made my way down to the basement.

It was quite large for a basement. I could tell that the space had been sectioned off to be multi-functional. I set the laundry down near the wash basin and briefly looked around.

There was a huge cupboard full of various household items: brooms, soaps, an axe for chopping firewood, and a few other tools this is where I would find extra cleaning supplies. There were boxes strewn about clothing, furs, and various other objects poking out of the tops.

I looked for a door that would lead outside so I could run a line for the clothes to dry in the sun, but there was no door. I decided that I would wash the clothes in the basement and then bring them up to the lounge near the dining room to dry. There was a big fireplace in that room and they should dry quickly in there.

Washing was easy enough, although a bit alarming. Several pieces of Rumplestiltskin's clothes had patches of dried blood on them: near the caps of the sleeves, at the bottom of the trousers. It was unlikely the blood belonged to him. He probably got the stains while attending to _business_ as the Dark One.

For the first time I was truly afraid of the Dark One's powers.

. . .

I sat in the lounge reading over some recipes for dinner and waiting for the clothes to dry so I could put them away. I felt myself starting to doze off. I was being lulled to sleep by the crackling fire and the sound of raindrops bouncing off the windows.

I felt something tap my foot and, though I wanted to ignore it and continue sleeping, I jerked awake suddenly remembering where I was and what I was supposed to be doing.

"Sleeping on the job, eh?" Rumplestiltskin stood at the end of the chaise I was sitting in, holding the book that must have fallen from my grasp as I drifted to sleep.

"I'm sorry! I didn't sleep well last night, and it was just so warm and comfortable in here. Am I late in preparing dinner?" I began to stand up so I could hurry off to the kitchen but he held up his hand, signaling me to stop.

"It's not yet time for that. I was merely curious to see how your chores were getting on. I see that you were at least able to launder the clothing before you took a nap."

I looked at him unsure of where this conversation was going. Was I going to be punished? Was he amused? After seeing the blood stains on his clothing I was hesitant.

"I also wanted to show you where I keep the fresh straw so you could bring me more when I need it."

"Lead the way." I managed to give a small smile without overdoing it. I was trying very hard to hold in my excitement since everything seemed to make him suspicious of me.

. . .

I was truly interested in the spinning … at first. After what must have been a few hours my excitement subsided quite a bit. It was calming to watch the wheel turn, and the gold that spun out was beautiful, but it was so constant—predictable.

When I grew tired of watching the wheel I began watching Rumplestiltskin. It was one of the few opportunities I had to watch him while his attention was focused on something else.

His body was relaxed. His hands and feet moved steadily, without hesitation. Though his presence still exuded power, it didn't feel overbearing; it was magnetic, pulling me in. But the most extraordinary change was in his eyes. Instead of the narrowed and hard look I was used to seeing they were vacant and almost peaceful.

I was watching him and he was watching the wheel. We might have sat there all night if not for my stomach growling. It must have been quite loud, too, because Rumplestiltskin slowed the wheel and turned to look at me.

"You may leave."

His words weren't harsh but I felt as though I were in trouble. I watched him silently. Confusion etched into every inch of my face.

"To make dinner." He added and I nodded. Yes, I still needed to prepare and cook our dinner as my stomach had noticeably announced that it was past time to eat.

. . .

After I cleared the mess from dinner I returned to the lounge. I collected the clothes from the line, folded them, and deposited them back in Rumplestiltskin's bedchamber.

Then I returned to the spinning room. This is where Rumplestiltskin was, seated in front of the wheel, transfixed upon his actions just as he was before dinner.

I topped off his straw pile and made myself comfortable in a nearby seat. I brought the cooking book I had with me earlier to help pass the time, but as I was reading a curious thought popped into my head.

"What is your favorite dish?" I blurted the question out before I could stop myself.

"Come again?" He barked out as the wheel stopped and his narrowed eyes stared straight at me.

"Y-your favorite meal?" I was alarmed by how quickly his calm was replaced by fiery agitation.

"It's just that I've been reading these books but I'm not sure which foods you favor and which ones you don't." I continued on when he didn't respond. I didn't want to trouble myself looking at recipes for foods that he wouldn't like.

"I gave you the books I did for a reason and you will find no ingredients in the kitchen for foods that I dislike. So long as you _properly_ make the food it should suffice." After he added the last part I felt as though I were an incompetent child being scolded.

This morning our interactions had been—well they hadn't been pleasant but they weren't completely terrifying. I had the impression that we were getting on alright, but now I was afraid that I had worn out my welcome—if I had ever actually been welcome.

. . .

I was taken back to the dungeon almost immediately. It appeared that my attempts at conversation only irritated Rumplestiltskin.

As I heard the latch close from outside I sank down onto the straw and thought about how terribly lonely I felt. The only companion I had in this huge castle seemed to have no interest at all in anything I had to do or say beyond completing my duties.

I missed my bed and the warm covers it had.

I missed my books and the comfort they provided me.

And most importantly, I missed my father.

As the wind blew more harshly through the small window I curled myself into a ball on the floor and wept.


	4. Chapter 4: There's Goodness in You

**Chapter 4: "There's Goodness in You"**

It had been unbearably cold in my room the last few nights. I could hear—and feel—a terrible storm raging outside. I was chilled to the bone. My skin looked like gooseflesh as it tried to keep me warm. My muscles ached from shivering.

Sleep was impossible.

The hours of the night dragged out, torturously long. I spent my time longing for the warmth of the lower parts of the castle imagining myself sitting on the chaise in the lounge next to a roaring fire. But these thoughts only seemed to highlight the uncomfortable cold of my freezing chamber.

When those thoughts failed I thought of the warmth of home and my father, which only further depressed my mood. It seemed that every moment in my dungeon that I wasn't asleep was spent crying. I couldn't hold in my tears and, in this solitude, I had no reasons preventing me from letting the tears flow freely and giving in to my sadness.

I had sacrificed a great deal to secure the lives of my people. At times, thoughts of their happiness haunted me and I selfishly wished to be back home.

. . .

I nearly burnt breakfast because, as I enjoyed the warmth the stove provided, my body gave into its exhaustion and I fell asleep leaning against the counter.

It was easier for me to be alert and awake when I was cleaning and moving. It was the brief moments of rest throughout the day that hit me the hardest, like watching the spinning wheel go round and round while I polished a few things in the spinning room.

I spent the day sleepily completing my chores and the night chilled to the bone, crying.

I was having a very rough time adjusting to this new life.

. . .

Winter was starting to fade away, but this storm seemed to be giving one last hurrah in the season's honor. I felt it even more acutely in my room; since the windows had no glass when it was particularly blustery rain would mist in through the openings. Between the weather and the exhaustion I felt from getting no sleep I began to catch a cold.

I rubbed some pepper under my nose in an attempt to clear out my sinuses and stop this constant sniffling. It helped make me sneeze, but the sniffling was still present, so I tucked a cloth napkin into my dress to use as a handkerchief while I completed my duties.

Today I was dusting the items on the main floor of the castle. This was the floor that had to be meticulously cleaned because it was the floor that Rumplestiltskin spent most of his time on and it was where guests would be received… if Rumplestiltskin ever had guests.

I had polished the suits of armor, cleaned the glass for the display cases, and was just beginning to dust the items that weren't protected in cases. I gave yet another sneeze and then heard Rumplestiltskin stomp into the dinning room.

At first I thought the noise came from an item falling to the floor because it was highly unusual for him to seek me out unless he was hungry, but it couldn't have been lunch time yet.

I brought the feather duster down to my side but before I could say anything I sneezed… three more times. I turned slightly away from Rumplestiltskin to wipe my nose with the napkin I hid in my dress.

"What's the matter with you?" His face gave me the impression that he was disgusted with me and I worried that I might not have wiped my nose enough.

"Nothing." I replied quickly checking my nose with the back of my finger.

"Your sneezes say otherwise. I've lost count of how many times that noise has interrupted my thoughts at the wheel."

"I'm sorry. I'm trying not to sneeze, but it's impossible to contain."

"Suddenly allergic to dust? You can't trick me, dearie." His eyes were hardened again searching my face for the truth.

"No, no. It's just a bit of a cold. Should clear up shortly."

"A cold. A cold from what?" His hard and calculating stare made me shiver.

"…the recent storm seems to have intensified the chill in the tower." My voice was soft. I didn't want him to think I was just making excuses, but I also hoped that he might remedy the problem.

It was wishful thinking, because as soon as the words were out of my mouth his expression became completely indecipherable, which made me nervous.

"I haven't a cold from the storm." He replied, a teasing, childish tone to his voice. I had noticed in the short time since I arrived that he used this tone when he was playing a game—a game he knew he would win. The only problem was that I never knew what game he was playing.

"Perhaps that is because the windows in _your_ bedchamber have glass on them."

It may have been unwise for me to give such a surly response, especially since I wasn't sure what game he was playing, but I was tired and sick and my patience was running out.

"Or, perhaps you're just too weak." His eyes had a mischievous gleam to them and I realized that it wasn't a game this time, it was a lesson. He was trying to use this to prove his superiority over me.

I would be lying if I said that his words didn't hit me at my core, but I didn't want him to see that he was getting to me. I didn't want to be weak. I wanted to be brave.

"Did you come in here for a reason other than to insult me?"

His expression changed ever so slightly. I'd like to believe that I surprised him, but it was impossible to know for sure.

"Not really." He replied in an offhand manner.

"Then I'll no longer keep you from your business." I replied stoically turning my back to him and continuing my work. I felt that I had won this round.

I could sense that he hadn't left the room yet. He was probably deciding whether or not to keep the battle going: weighing what he could do or say to change the outcome, but then I heard his footsteps and as I listened they grew distant.

Sometimes I felt like I was working for a child. Rumplestiltskin would shift so quickly from teasing, to reprimanding, to sulking. It was nearly impossible to predict his actions or reactions.

. . .

The day continued to drag on. I dusted and polished and cleaned until dinner. After that I was taken up to the dungeon. He didn't even give me a chance to annoy him with questions tonight. I guess that besting him earlier in combination with my sneezing had used up all of his patience for the day.

I entered the room preparing to gather my straw together to sit on, but it was gone. In its place was a woven mat and a simple wool blanket. I turned around to thank Rumplestiltskin, but he cut me off.

"No more excuses for poor work." Then the door slammed shut and the latch closed.

The mat was thin but it was an improvement from the straw. It was still much too early for me to attempt sleep and my thoughts drifted back to my father. Whenever I was sick he would bring me a flower and a warm cup of tea with honey. I missed the comfort of his company so much. I felt it so much more now that I was stuck in this dungeon with nothing but my thoughts.

. . .

I wasn't sure how long I had been crying when Rumplestiltskin burst in the room. I stood up startled.

"When you so eagerly agreed to come work for me I assumed you wouldn't miss your family quite so much." He only seemed to be further frustrated by my human weakness.

"I made my sacrifice for them. Of course I miss them you beast!" My current mood and his unfriendly manners caused me to throw propriety out the window; I didn't care if he was my _master._

"Yes, yes, of course, but the crying **must** stop. Night after night, it's making it very difficult for me to spin. You know, I do my best thinking then!" His actions were so animated and I could tell that he was very agitated.

I stared at him. He had a terrible habit of saying things in a cold and unfeeling manner, but every now and then I fancied that his words were a way of masking his true thoughts and feelings. However, in my current emotional state I did not care to read his expression for the deeper meaning. I didn't feel that I needed to justify my emotions.

"Here. Perhaps this will help?" He added conjuring a pillow.

"For me?" I asked skeptically. He was never nice to me without a reason. Even the mat and blanket were given to me under the reprimand that my work needed to stay up to par.

"Not quite so beastly now, am I?" He retorted tossing the pillow to me.

"Thank you. Maybe now I can actually get some sleep."

"No, no. It's not to help you _sleep_, dearie. It's to muffle the cries so I can get back to work!"

His words were flippant and unforgiving. I felt myself on the verge of bursting into tears again, but then there was a crashing noise from one of the floors below. Rumplestiltskin hurried down the stairs. I hesitated, but my curiosity got the better of me and I soon followed after him toward the noise.

. . .

There was a thief! A thief in the Dark Castle. This soul must have been quite desperate to venture here. I watched in curious astonishment as he and Rumplestiltskin traded unfriendly remarks. However, the atmosphere changed completely when this stranger aimed at Rumplestiltskin telling him that an arrow fired from the bow he held **never** missed its mark.

Then he fired.

I wanted to rush forward and help Rumplestiltskin however I could once I saw that the arrow struck him, but he had already removed the arrow and was healing himself with magic. And in the time it took Rumplestiltskin to cure himself the thief was out of the castle. He had abandoned the bow and quiver of arrows, but had taken Rumplestiltskin's magic wand.

We had quite an adventure after that. We followed the thief into the woods where Rumplestiltskin was going to kill him with the same bow and arrow; I was quite sure that was his intention. To Rumplestiltskin, his reputation was nearly as important as his powers, and if someone were to find out that a person could steal from the Dark One and live to tell the tale it would be chaos in his mind.

We caught up to the thief after gaining some information from a sheriff near the forest. It was a rather unpleasant interrogation from my perspective. It was unnerving to see how ruthless Rumplestiltskin could be when he was actively pursuing something that interested him.

We found the thief in the forest. He was standing over a sick woman using the wand to cure whatever ailed her. I thought it was becoming quite an amazing story, but Rumplestiltskin did not. I watched as he raised and aimed the bow and arrow at the man.

I couldn't stop the steady rush of words flowing from my mouth, begging Rumplestiltskin not to kill this man; it was obvious he had only taken the wand to save the woman he loves, but he grew tired of my argument and used magic against me. I was instantly stuck in the ground so that I couldn't interfere with his actions.

"That should give you a good view."

I tried to free myself but it was useless.

"You don't have to do this! There is good in you!" I watched as the thief helped his love up and we could both see that this story was more complicated than we knew.

"Look! She's pregnant! You are not the kind of man to leave a child fatherless." I could see the bow falter slightly, but then just as quickly he took aim and fired.

"NO!" I watched Rumplestiltskin's expression and something in it reassured me that he hadn't killed the thief.

"What happened?" I asked cautiously, still anchored in the dirt.

"I missed. Get back to the carriage. I'm bored of this forest." He said simply, releasing me from the ground with a flourish of his hand.

"You're not going after him?" Not that I wanted him to, but it was odd for him to change his mind so suddenly after everything we had done to get here.

"He's not worth the efforts." He wasn't looking at me as he responded; instead he stared off into the trees as if watching a memory.

"You spared his life." I said triumphantly.

"What? I did nothing of the sort." He finally looked at me, but I could see the malice that clouded his expression earlier was gone. He almost seemed lost.

"That bow has magic in it. It never misses its target." I was trying to get him to admit that he had done a noble thing by letting the thief live, but I knew he would never say the words.

"Well, perhaps the magic has simply worn …off." We were mere inches apart. It was probably the closest proximity we had. I looked in his eyes as he finished speaking. I felt my heart swell with happiness for the gift he had given that couple. I knew that he had darkness within him, but now I knew that he had goodness within him, too. I hugged him letting the gesture express my gratitude for his actions.

. . .

When we returned to the DarkCastle I sneezed.

I saw Rumplestiltskin frown at me but the tension that had built up between us during this wild day seemed to be gone. I had known that there was goodness in him and it was becoming easier for me to look through his masks and see the truth of his words and actions. I had been able to peel back one of his carefully crafted layers and see a spec of truth.

Though I was happy, I was exhausted. This day had been emotionally and physically draining. I only hoped that sleep wouldn't elude me tonight.

"Well, if you don't need me for anything else, good night, Rumplestiltskin." I gave a small smile and then turned to go up to the dungeon.

"No, wait. There is something else…"

. . .

I followed him to a part of the castle I hadn't seen yet. I felt my breath catch as we entered a large, circular room. It was filled floor to ceiling with shelves and shelves of books.

"Temper your excitement, dearie. This is merely another room for you to clean." I heard Rumplestiltskin speak the words, but they weren't harsh or jeering as his commands usually were.

"It—it's beautiful! There are more books in here than I could read in a lifetime." This would be an excellent way to pass my time spent in the dungeon, and it would be far more comforting than thinking of things from my past which I can no longer have.

"Well, I hope you can clean faster than you can read." He retorted, but there was still something soft in his voice, like he was trying to convince himself of his words more than he was trying to convince me.

"Did you do all this for me?" I asked stepping closer to him. His usual indecipherable mask had failed him. I could see that he brought me here knowing that I'm fond of reading, and, perhaps, hoping that it would make me happy, and not because my work wasn't up to par, or because my crying was interrupting his thoughts, but just to make me happy.

"I better not see a single spec of dust gathering on these books. What are you smiling at?"

He had never appeared more human to me. I grabbed the hand he was using to point at me and held it while I spoke.

"You're not who I thought you were, and I'm glad."

I gave his hand a light squeeze, took one last look around the room and left the room smiling, "Good night."

. . .

I woke up the next day after sleeping through the entire night.

I granted the miracle to the excellent combination of comfort, excitement, and relief. I had the blanket and pillow which helped with comfort, the adventure the thief had provided, and the relief that there was goodness in Rumplestiltskin.

I felt strangely optimistic that things would only go up from here.


	5. Chapter 5: Why Do You Spin So Much

**Chapter 5: "Why Do You Spin So Much?"**

I woke up feeling much better than I had since I had been brought here. Things were falling into place in a way that I could handle.

A few days had passed since Rumplestiltskin spared the thief's life and showed me the library. Although he told me that the library was only for me to clean, I had helped myself to reading a few books from its well-stocked shelves, but this morning there would be no reading.

Today I would finally tackle cleaning the third floor.

This floor was used mostly for storage; aside from some furniture and a few trinkets that looked broken, there weren't many items to dust, but that didn't stop the dust from collecting. And you better believe it collected with a vengeance on the third floor.

I had a feather duster attached to a long pole to help me reach the taller items and the cobwebs on the walls. I was grateful for the extended reach, otherwise I'd have to tote about the ladder and climb up it with this puffy gown on—it was hard enough just walking around and sleeping wearing this, if I had to carry and climb up a ladder Rumplestiltskin would probably be in need of a new caretaker because he would find me smashed beneath the ladder feather duster still in hand.

With the extended reach, dusting was probably the easiest chore I would have, but it was also quite bothersome. I had just gotten over a cold and didn't look forward to potentially spending the rest of the day sneezing again because of the dust.

Plus, dusting is **messy**.

Whenever I would knock down tufts of dust from the walls or higher up items they always seemed to land right on top of me. I don't think I've been this dirty since I was a child.

I shook out my hair and patted down my dress to knock off some more of the dust that collected on me, but it seemed to be a fruitless action. I brushed off what I could, but was sure I must have looked a terrible mess.

At least the third floor was clean…

. . .

Rumplestiltskin seemed to be frowning at me while he ate lunch. I hoped that the food didn't taste badly; my cooking skills seemed to be improving and I had followed the recipe exactly.

"You're filthy." He finally said, much to my embarrassment.

"Oh, I've just been cleaning." I said patting down my hair again… like the action would magically make me no longer filthy.

"The chimney?" He asked teasingly.

"The third floor—dusting—as it were. It is now rather clean." I replied casually, although I worried, briefly, if I was expected to clean the chimneys too.

"And yet you look like you need a caretaker to clean you now."

He blinked slowly as he tried to understand why I suddenly had a shocked expression on my face. Did he not realize how suggestive that statement was? I nearly blushed at the thought of someone else scrubbing this dust off of my skin, especially since we are the only two inhabitants of the DarkCastle.

"Your gown needs laundering. You can wash it when you wash my things after lunch." He finished saying, watching me queerly.

I hesitated before speaking. I would like nothing better than to clean off all of this dust and days' worth of grime, but …

"Rumplestiltskin, I've brought nothing with me. This is my only clothing…"

He watched me in silence for a moment tapping his fingers on the tabletop.

"While you clear the dishes, I'll find something suitable for you to wear."

"Thank you."

I only hoped it wouldn't be something terribly old and itchy.

. . .

"Ahem."

My shoulders tensed at the unexpected noise, but I didn't jump. Whether I liked it or not, I was starting to get used to Rumplestiltskin popping in on me from out of nowhere. I turned to the doorway when I was sure my expression was calm. I wanted him to think that I was impervious to his little tricks.

"I left the garment in the washroom on the second floor, near my bedchamber. There's no point in dirtying more clothes, dearie, so wash up before changing into it."

"Thank you."

I had been in the washroom several times, but always to clean the space, never to use it.

I ran the warm water tap to fill the bath and added a little fragrance oil from the bottle on the ledge of the bath: roses.

I felt so free once the large gown was off. I could bend and stretch properly. I felt even better once I settled into the warm water.

The rose fragrance was calming. After spending my first few days lying upon straw and stone after cleaning high and low my body fully relaxed for the first time since I had come to the DarkCastle.

I took care to rinse my hair and scrub my face and then I looked around trying to get a better sense of who Rumplestiltskin really was. I had learned a few things about the Dark One, but Rumplestiltskin, the spinner, I knew very little about.

There were a few fragrance bath oils (like the rose one I used), soaps that appeared to be of a good quality, a shaving kit, and a fine-toothed hair comb among other things neatly lined up on the countertop.

Rumplestiltskin seemed to be a bit vain—just like every other human.

These items proved that he cared about his physical appearance just as much as he cared about the appearance of his power. The more I thought about it I knew that I should have realized this earlier. All of the items I laundered were pieces to carefully constructed outfits that gave off a dash of elegance—nobility even. His hair was never matted, his face was always clean-shaven, and although his skin shimmered with a dark-golden hue, he never appeared to be dirty.

I found it fascinating that someone who had been known for turning people into snails and stomping on them would still care about how he smelled and what he wore. The more I learned about Rumplestiltskin, the less I felt like he was some terrible being of power and darkness.

I smiled at this revelation and took in a deep breath of the rose fragrance in the water, completely at ease.

That was when the banging started.

"Have you drowned?" I heard an annoyed voice ask through the closed door.

"If I had you couldn't very well expect a response, could you?" I shook clear my head and began to drain the bathwater; the time for relaxation was over.

"I could if you've become a ghost." I could hear the teasing tone in his voice even through the door.

"Has my absence really been long enough for you to suspect my death?" I queried patting my body dry with a towel. It hadn't seemed like I was in the bath an inordinate amount of time, but I wasn't really paying attention. I was relishing in the feeling of being clean again.

"It's been an hour at least. I've been told that women take an unnecessary amount of time grooming themselves, but honestly, dearie, there's no need for that here. There's just you and me."

I stopped as I analyzed that statement.

It was very true; it was just me and Rumplestiltskin here in this huge castle, so why did _he_ need to groom himself so well?

I rolled my eyes at myself. Rumplestiltskin has been alive for at least _two_ centuries. He was probably just so immersed into a routine of daily grooming that he didn't realize he continued to do it.

I put on my new dress quickly hoping to keep my mind from creating any more unlikely reasons for Rumplestiltskin's behavior.

First I put on a short-sleeved, white, button-up blouse with lace around the collar and sleeves, and then the skirt and corseted-vest, which were matching shades of blue.

The only thing this washroom was missing was a mirror, but I could tell that the dress, overall, was quite lovely. The blue was sure to compliment my eyes and pale skin. I wondered where he might have gotten it from.

"Are you sure you haven't drowned? It sounds awfully quiet in there." Rumplestiltskin added while I finished tying a ribbon through the eyelets on the front of the vest.

"Quite certain. I've nearly finished dressing. I'll be out in a moment to collect your clothes and head to the basement to launder them."

I waited for his response but he gave none. When I opened the door he was nowhere in sight.

. . .

I missed the sunlight; I missed being able to absorb its warmth and use its natural lighting.

Apart from the blazing fire, the lounge where I hung the clothes to dry was quite dark. In fact, the entire castle was quite dark, except for the basement and the dungeon, ironically. I attributed this to the fact that Rumplestiltskin did not spend time in either of those rooms. The rest of the castle was cloaked in near darkness brightened only by hanging torches and firelight. I was certain that there must be spots that I've missed while cleaning in this poor light.

My next task was to clean the spinning room, yet another room with dim lighting.

At first I was going to dust the brocaded curtains hanging over each window—covering up the glorious sunlight and keeping it from entering the room—but then I had an idea. Why go to the trouble of beating the dust out of such large curtains when I could simply take them down?

I contemplated asking Rumplestiltskin for permission, but decided against it. If I asked, he could say no.

Instead I found the ladder and propped it up against the wall as close to the window as I could manage. Rumplestiltskin was still spinning; he rarely looked away from his work while sitting at the wheel and I decided to take advantage of that.

I felt as though he was always spinning. He spent a good deal of his time in this one room out of the entire castle. And he certainly didn't _need_ to spin the straw into gold.

I climbed up the ladder. I could still see Rumplestiltskin at the wheel; I watched it go around a few more times.

"Why do you spin so much?"

The wheel stopped at my words, and I felt the need to explain myself for interrupting him.

"I'm sorry. It's just that you've spun straw into more gold than you could ever spend."

"I like to watch the wheel. Helps me forget." His tone was serious. He wasn't teasing or simply ignoring my question like he usually did when I asked him questions.

"Forget what?" I had stopped inspecting the curtains at this point, focusing entirely on Rumplestiltskin and his responses.

"I guess it worked." He giggled in his teasing way turning to look at me and I couldn't help but laugh too before turning my attention back to the heavy curtains. I was determined to figure out how they were attached to the wall so I could take them down, but it was proving to be more difficult than I expected. Even when I gave them a sturdy tug, nothing happened apart from sending some dusting swirling into the air.

"What _are_ you doing?" Rumplestiltskin asked leaving the wheel and walking toward me.

"Opening these. It's almost spring; we should let some light in." I tried tugging a few more times. Nothing happened.

"What did you do, nail them down?" I asked turning to face him.

"Yeah." He replied casually, and I chuckled pulling on the curtains again but with a little more force.

It worked!

I felt the material give and watched as it separated from the wall. But my momentum didn't stop. I had leaned too far away from the ladder when I pulled the curtain and felt myself falling.

I closed my eyes and waited for the hard crash I would inevitably feel as I collided with the wood floor; I hoped that I might at least land on the fallen curtain to soften the fall, but it didn't happen.

I opened my eyes to see that Rumplestiltskin had caught me. He had one arm around my waist and the other under my legs. Of its own volition, my arm had circled around his shoulders for support. I was definitely surprised, but mostly I was thankful.

I watched as he looked around confused, squinting into the dust-swirled sunlight that now flooded the room. When his eyes finally locked with mine I managed to say, "thank you." He held my gaze for a moment and then realized he was still holding me.

Rather abruptly the arm that was supporting my legs dropped and my legs dropped with it. He stumbled back two steps and I thanked him again. It was quite incredible the way he caught me, like something out of a story I might read from the library about princes and damsels in distress.

"It was no matter." He said dismissing his actions with a wave his hand.

He was still squinting so I said that I'd put the curtains back up, after all, he had a right to be comfortable in his own home.

He began walking away but stopped, looked at the curtain on the floor, at the bright window, and then at me.

"There's no need. I'll get used to it."

It seemed that he had far more goodness in him than he would ever know.

I watched him walk in a haze back to the wheel and I couldn't stop myself from grinning. We had sunlight, and Rumplestiltskin had saved me. I would say it was a successful afternoon.

. . .

I had noticed a few days later that nearly all of the heavy curtains covering the windows on the main floor had been replaced with curtains that could slide open and closed without the use of a ladder. I smiled as I rubbed the fabric of the new curtains between my fingers.

It seemed that I was having a direct impact on life in the DarkCastle.

. . .

As the days drew on I began to feel even more comfortable here. I was no longer immediately banished to my dungeon after dinner. I was able to spend time in the library, but more often than not, I chose a book and brought it into the spinning room to read while Rumplestiltskin sat at the wheel.

Finally, we had some kind of companionship and the DarkCastle felt like a far less lonely place than when I first arrived. We spent many evenings just like this: each captivated by our own pleasures simply sharing the space and the warmth of the fire.

I had stopped counting the days it had been since I first came here. Time seemed to be more fluid and I had trouble keeping track of its passing. It may have been two weeks or a month since that first day when I chipped the tea cup; it didn't seem to matter.

And as it turned out I had chosen Rumplestiltskin's favorite tea set that first day. He would only take his tea from that simple yet elegant set I had used, even with the chipped cup. I was happy that he wasn't furious with me for damaging what apparently held such a special value to him.


	6. Chapter 6: Can't I at Least Know You

**AN: **I want to say thank you to **Wandz, Gem India, and Eyes like Dawn** for their reviews!

* * *

**Chapter 6: "Can't I at Least Know You"**

It was turning out to be a beautiful evening. I was seated by the fire with the most recent book I borrowed from Rumplestiltskin's library. It was a classic tale about an enchanted castle but a instead of a damsel in distress there was a brave woman who made sacrifices for love. The story definitely hit a bit close to my heart.

I was soaking up the words like they were air. I was nearly finished with chapter eight when I felt something bounce off of my arm. I found the assailant lying on my lap and looked up to see that Rumplestiltskin was watching me with an annoyed expression.

"Did you just throw a piece of _straw_ at me?" I asked holding up the stiff, yellow stick.

He shrugged haughtily, like a child who knew he couldn't get in trouble. Sometimes I really did feel that I was a nanny as well as a caretaker of the DarkCastle.

"Why?" I asked when he offered no explanation.

"I'm nearly out of straw." He said simply.

"Then why waste what you have left by throwing this at me?" I was annoyed that he had interrupted my reading. It was one of the few things that gave me joy in this castle.

"Because one of your duties is to fetch me more straw when I am running. out. of. it." I felt my stomach drop at his response.

"Right." I said dumbly as I marked the page I was reading and set the book down immediately.

My duties. I could pinch myself for how argumentative I had been when I responded.

"Actually, I have a better idea." I was half crouched preparing to stand up when Rumplestiltskin spoke. I waited for him to finish what his 'better idea' was. I just hoped that his 'better idea' didn't involve some kind of punishment for my insubordinate behavior.

"The tale you are reading must be fascinating, or you would have heard me the first _two_ times I called your name..."

I felt myself blush. Had I really been that oblivious to my surroundings that he **had** to throw straw at me to get my attention?

"Why don't you read it to me?" He finished and I felt myself teeter backwards in surprise and land right on my bottom.

"Excuse me?" I asked unsure if I had heard him right. In all my days here I had never seen nor heard him express any interest in reading and had trouble believing that he would want my voice to fill the air—especially since it was my voice, my questions, in the early days of my stay here that had me sent up to the isolation of the dungeon.

"Read to me." It was no longer a question, but a demand. I searched his face. He didn't look angry, but the playful nature he usually had was absent as well.

"Okay…" I supposed he could be interested in reading; after all he did have quite an extensive library. I tried not to over-analyze the situation, but my head was warning me that this may be some kind of trick or test. Perhaps, he had known which book I chose and wished to embarrass or belittle me about it… I dismissed this thought quickly. How could he hope to embarrass me for choosing a book that _he_ had stocked in his own library?

I watched as he stood up from the wheel and joined me on the rug by the hearth. He conjured himself a pillow and leaned against it, settling in comfortably and then he motioned for me to begin.

I picked up the book and hesitantly flipped back to the first page, eyeing him one last time before beginning.

"Once upon a time, in a far away land a young prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind. But then one cold winter's night an old beggar-woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold."

I glanced up at Rumplestiltskin. I had already read the first eight chapters and could tell that I would like the tale, but I was unsure whether he would be bored of it.

He returned my gaze and nodded for me to continue.

"Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late for she had seen that there was no love in his heart."

I glance up again while I took a breath. I could see that Rumplestiltskin was focused on me, on what I was saying. He wasn't staring off into space or sneering in my direction, so I continued, a little more at ease.

"As punishment she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell upon the castle and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form the beast concealed himself inside his castle with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose which would bloom until his twenty-first birthday. If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast?"

. . .

I covered my mouth as I yawned for the third time in a row.

I must have been reading for hours. My throat and eyes felt dry and my jaw was tired from the constant movement. I had just finished chapter twenty. We were nearly halfway through the book, but it must have been very late. Although I wanted to know what would happen next, I also wanted to get some sleep.

Rumplestiltskin was staring at the floor absentmindedly picking at the pillow that he was leaning on before he realized that I was not going to continue.

"I think it's time I head up for bed." I spoke when our eyes met.

He gave one curt nod of his head but he didn't turn away. I could tell that his thoughts still had the primary focus of his attention even as he stared at me.

I finally cleared my throat and looked away a little embarrassed by the intensity of his gaze. I marked the page and set the book on the edge of the hearth before I stood up. I had to remind myself to do so slowly as I had been sitting for a long time and one of my legs had fallen asleep from the disuse.

I stretched carefully so as not to aggravate my tingling limb and looked back at Rumplestiltskin who had yet to move.

Then all at once he shook his head, stood up and gave a teasingly ceremonious bow, stating, "to be continued!"

I gave a small smile in return and said, "good night."

. . .

I had made it through my morning duties in a kind of daze. I set Rumplestiltskin's freshly laundered clothes in his bedchamber and stopped for a moment to rub my eyes. They were still tired from the late night reading and further irritated by the heat from the fire where the clothes hung to dry. I took a few moments to shuffle through my memories from the night before.

Would Rumplestiltskin still want me to continue reading as we had last night? He seemed fairly interested in the beginning; I glanced at him often during the first few chapters and he was always watching me focused on what I was reading, but did it change somewhere along the way? Once we reached chapter eight I stopped glancing up to check his interest. I was selfishly plowing ahead to satisfy my own curiosity and needs.

I wanted to finish the story, but I could read it on my own time if he was no longer interested in it. I could just ask him whether he wanted me to continue or not… but how to approach the subject?

I spent entirely too long thinking about it and could find no way of asking him that wouldn't make me uncomfortable, so instead I decided it would be best if I simply brought another book in from the library that he might like better. Perhaps something with more action.

. . .

After I cleared away dinner's mess I hurried off to the library to find a suitable replacement book in case Rumplestiltskin wanted me to read to him again.

I was surprised when I entered the spinning room and found him already leaning on his pillow by the hearth.

"I wondered where you ran off to. What have you got there?" He asked eyeing the new book in my hands as I approached.

"A book." I replied holding it up to which he frowned.

"I assumed you didn't want me to continue with the same story tonight." I explained and his frown was replaced with the indecipherable and stoic expression I hated. It had been a while since he used it. I felt that we were beginning to read each other so well that it wouldn't work on me, but I was wrong.

I had no idea what he was thinking.

"Well, if you don't like the tale, by all means, abandon it for a new one. Either way, I'm ready to listen…"

I set the new book down by the half-empty basket of straw near the spinning wheel and joined him at the hearth.

"Chapter twenty-one: there's something there that wasn't there before."

. . .

As I swept the dining room the next day I couldn't stop myself from thinking about Rumplestiltskin's reaction when the story was over. I was nearly in tears over how beautifully things seemed to work out for the beast and the brave woman who happened upon his castle, but Rumplestiltskin only looked pensive, like he was trying to reconcile two things that didn't match up.

"Daydreaming already, dearie?"

The voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I turned to face Rumplestiltskin who was casually leaning against his chair at the table.

"Just… thinking." I replied scooping my pile of dust into the bin.

"I'd like to take afternoon tea in here." He replied taking a seat.

"I still have a bit of cleaning to do in here, but if that will interfere with your tea I could move to the spinning room…"

"No, no it'll be fine." He replied making himself comfortable. I nodded and put the broom away in the kitchen before I made the tea.

Rumplestiltskin and I rarely crossed paths between lunch and dinner except for fleeting moments in the hall or if he wanted an afternoon tea—like today, but unlike today, he usually took his tea in the spinning room.

I arranged the tray and, once the water was hot, brought it out to the table where he was seated. Once he was squared away I opened the silver drawer and began polishing the items inside.

I noticed that after a short while Rumplestiltskin was walking around the room with his tea. He would look out the windows, touch the items on the pedestals, and glance at what I was doing. He looked like he wanted to talk, like he wanted my company.

"Why did you want me here?" I asked closing the silver drawer and making my way toward where he stood by the table. He looked at me a little surprised by my question.

"The place was filthy." I could see a playful grin on his lips before he took another sip from his cup. I pushed myself up to sit on the edge of the table.

"I think you were lonely. I mean, any man would be lonely." I assumed that this was why he took his tea in the room I happened to be cleaning. It was easy to feel lonely in this big quiet castle.

He looked at me thoughtfully and then leaned against the table next to me.

"Well, I'm not a man." His voice was quite, like he was ashamed. His teasing manner was gone and I felt that I might actually be able to learn who Rumplestiltskin was. I jumped at the opportunity to ask him the question that had caught my attention while I cleaned and inventoried the discarded boxes on the third floor.

"So I've had a couple of months to look around. And, uh, upstairs, there's clothing. Small, as if for a child? Was it yours or was there a son?"

I could see distant sadness cross over his features. He was staring at the floor. I hoped I hadn't crossed a line in asking this.

"There was. There was a son. I lost him. As I did his mother."

"I'm sorry." The fact that he had a son surprised me and gave me hope. I briefly thought back to the thief in the woods. Only when we saw that the thief's lover was pregnant did Rumplestiltskin falter. Was it because he was thinking of his own son, and was still troubled by whatever happened that made him lose him? I still knew so little about Rumplestiltskin.

"So you were a man once. An ordinary man?" My hand on the table was close enough to his that I could feel the warmth of his skin.

He didn't reply. Instead he stared down at the chipped tea cup in his other hand. I could tell that he was reluctant to open himself up, to make himself vulnerable.

"If I'm never going to know another person in my whole life, can't I at least know you?" My voice was pleading. I was just as alone as he, even more so because I couldn't leave the castle and he could. I slowly moved my hand so that it was just touching the edge of his.

"Perhaps you just want to learn the monster's weaknesses." He set the cup on the table before standing up and moving a little away from me. He was wiggling his fingers in my face like a reprimand. I felt that the moment for honest conversation was passing me by—he was reverting back to childlike teasing to avoid being honest and exposed.

"You're not a monster. You think you're uglier than you are. That's why you cover all the mirrors up, isn't it? Hmm?"

"There are other reasons to cover up mirrors." I could see a flash of darkness cross his eyes, but before either of us could say anything else there was a knock at the front door.

Rumplestiltskin looked annoyed and I watched curiously as he disappeared to answer it.

. . .

"Who was that?" I asked walking toward Rumplestiltskin when he returned to the dinning room.

"Just an old woman selling flowers. Here. If you'll have it." He had a small grin on his face and I knew that he was referencing the story we had finished the day before.

I gasped as he brought a long-stemmed red rose from behind his back and held it out to me. He really did have a flower! It was beautiful and a very sweet gesture, especially because it made me think of the story we just finished. I leaned forward to take it.

"Why thank you." I said with a curtsey, to which he bowed gallantly back. I was grinning like a fool and on the verge of blushing so I turned away to get some sheers and a vase for my beautiful flower.

"You had a life, Belle, before this. Friends and family. What made you choose to come here with me?" His words were calculated and steady. He wasn't playing some game or giving me a command, he was truly interested in my response. I glanced at him as he sat down at the table. Perhaps we could continue our conversation.

"Heroism. Sacrifice. You know, there aren't a lot of opportunities for women in this land to show what they can do. To see the world, to be heroes. So when you arrived, that was my chance. I always wanted to be brave. I figured do the brave thing and bravery would follow." I was back at the table by the time I finished speaking, preparing the rose for the vase.

"And is it everything you hoped?" He asked dramatically moving his hands, gesturing to the castle and the life we lived here. His voice was playful.

"Well, I did want to see the world. That part didn't really work out. But, I did save my village." I tried to focus on the positive aspects of this deal. As I had reasoned before, the lives of my people were worth more than my dreams of traveling or any other fancy.

His focus was solely on me. He was studying my responses and watching my movements for more information.

"And what about your … betrothed?" I sighed at his question. Gaston rarely entered my thoughts even back home.

"It was an arranged marriage. Honestly, I never really cared much for Gaston. No. To me, love is layered. It's a mystery to be uncovered. I could never truly give my heart to someone as superficial as Gaston." I felt so comfortable talking to him that I kept rambling on until I noticed that Rumplestiltskin was staring at me in a way he never had before. There wasn't anger or annoyance in his stare, but rather it was like he was in a state of wonder.

I had been talking an awful lot about myself and was suddenly feeling self-conscious so I redirected.

"But you were going to tell me about your son." I said returning the focus to him with a smile.

"I'll tell you what. I'll make you a deal. Go to town and fetch me some straw. When you return, I'll share my tale."


	7. Chapter 7: You Trust Me to Come Back

**AN: **Once again I'd like to thank **Wandz** and **Eyes Like Dawn**

* * *

**Chapter 7: "You Trust Me to Come Back?"**

Had I heard him correctly? Go to town? Did he know what he was letting me do?

"Town? Y-you trust me to come back?" My head practically spun with the thought. In the months that I had been here I was never even allowed outside, but now he was going to let me go into town? Unsupervised?

"Oh no. I expect I'll never see you again." His voice was flat and his expression twisted my stomach. He looked as though he were trying to cover up an unforgivable pain. I wanted to say something to comfort him, to make that look on his face go back to the look of wonder he had just moments before, but I couldn't think of a single word to remedy him. Instead we stared at each other in silence for an immeasurable moment. I watched as his emotions disappeared and that indecipherable mask was back on his gold-dusted face. The only hint of his true feelings diminished to a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"The basket for the straw is in the spinning room." He said quietly. I opened my mouth to say something, but he stood up and left the room.

Town? It was as good as being told that I could return home. He even said that he never expected to see me again.

But what about the deal? I promised to stay with him **forever**. And in exchange he would protect my village… did his protection stop when my duties did? No. I doubted he would behave so vindictively toward me, especially when he told me freely that I could leave.

My heart was pounding and my breathing was fast. Since I had been brought here I have dreamed of returning home, sleeping in my comfortable room with my father and friends close by. I wouldn't have to strain my limbs cleaning for hours and hours every day, but I never dreamed that it would be an actual possibility.

I felt so conflicted. It had been an easier choice for me to agree to stay here with him than it seemed to be for me to leave.

My eyes scanned the dining room again. I finished with the cleaning for this room—apart from the tea tray I had brought in for Rumplestiltskin. His cup was still on the table, right next to where our hands touched for the briefest of moments.

Whether I was going to return or not, it was becoming clear to me that I would have to leave. I couldn't very well just stand here in the dining room.

I stumbled over to the tray and collected the pieces and delivered them back to the kitchen. After that I slowly made my way to the spinning room—that was where I would find the basket to collect the straw in.

. . .

The spinning room was empty. The fire hadn't been lit and, apart from a small stream of light that filtered in through a curtain that wasn't properly closed, the room was dim, empty… lonely.

I could see that there was some kind of fabric draped over the basket I was to take. As I approached I could tell that the fabric was pale green and muted yellow brocaded with flowers—just like the heavy curtains that were taken down from the windows after I fell into Rumplestiltskin's arms. I thought it odd for this to be lying around until I lifted the material and saw the hood and clasp; it had been made into a traveling cloak… for me.

I felt my breath catch as full realization hit me: Rumplestiltskin had made a cloak for me to take on this journey even though he expects that I'll never return. I fastened the cloak around my shoulders and set the basket on my arm. I had brought nothing with me when I came and thus I had nothing else to take with me as I left.

I could feel a nervous excitement building within me as I headed for the foyer, the exit of the castle.

There was still a lingering chill in the outside air and I was grateful for my cloak. I pulled the hood forward to help shield my eyes from the sun; my months in the DarkCastle had made them more sensitive to direct light.

I took a few moments to look around. I hadn't had the opportunity to do so before. Even when I accompanied Rumplestiltskin to look for the thief we were rushed and I was too preoccupied with what would happen when we found him to notice my surroundings.

The castle somehow seemed bigger looking at it from the outside. My room seemed impossibly high up and yet I was able to climb the stairs up to it every day.

The grounds immediately surrounding the castle were fairly flat with some wild shrubbery right against the castle walls. Then there was an expanse of bare flat lands—probably for visibility reasons—and just beyond that seemed to be a dense forest in every direction before the mountains blocked everything else but the sky.

There was one slightly winding road leading away from the castle and I knew that this would eventually lead me to town. I looked back at the castle one last time and then set off.

. . .

I hoped that I would soon be entering town and then I could find out exactly how far away I was from my village. I had been walking for a few hours and although I felt a slight strain in my legs from the constant movement, I didn't feel tired.

It felt wonderful to breathe in fresh air and the springtime smells of flowers and plants. It was a lovely clean scent unlike the smells I had grown accustomed to in the DarkCastle: wood burning, old paper, cleaning chemicals, straw, and rose oil.

I was walking along the road when I heard a commotion behind me. Several guards on horses preceded a large carriage coming up the road. I moved off by the side brush so they could pass me by but the carriage rolled to a stop at my side. Then the ornate door opened to reveal a woman dressed in all black, her makeup and clothes done to the nines.

"Did my carriage splash you?" She asked her red lips smiling politely at me.

"Oh, no, I'm fine." There were so many details to take in with her arrival; I felt that she must have been nobility or something akin to it for how elaborate everything was.

"You know, I'm tired of riding. Let me stretch my legs and walk with you for a spell."

I didn't really want the company, but she seemed friendly enough that I didn't want to offend her. It was obvious by the way that she was traveling and the way she carried herself that she was an important person.

She carried a black lace umbrella to shield her from the sun as we walked. As we continued I could hear her entourage following a short distance behind us.

"You carry very little." She said suddenly and I glanced down at my empty basket.

"I don't want to be slowed down." I answered simply, hoping that she wouldn't press the subject. I didn't really want to think about what was happening. Yes, I wanted to be free from the DarkCastle and I missed my father dearly, but things felt like they were beginning to change. I no longer felt like I was trapped there; I was able to bathe regularly and take up my hobbies like reading. I was beginning to look at it as my home—even if I did sleep in the dungeon…

"Oh, you're running from someone. The question is master or lover?" She was chuckling as she spoke. I suppose she meant it as a joke, but I didn't know how to respond. I could feel heat in my cheeks and I looked to the ground.

"Oh. Master _and_ lover."

I was completely uncomfortable talking about this with a complete stranger, especially when I wasn't even sure what I felt. I stopped walking and looked at the woman.

"I might stop and take a rest. You go on ahead."

But it seemed that she had taken an interest in me. She merely smiled and put her arm around my shoulders, forcing me onward with her and I begrudgingly obliged.

"So, if I'm right, you love your employer, but you're leaving him." I felt as though her stare was piercing right through me. She expected answers from me to questions I had barely begun to ask myself.

"I might love him. I could, except something evil has taken root in him." I thought of the cold stares I would catch on his face, the undecipherable mask he would wear, and the blood stains I would launder out of his clothes from his dealings.

"It sounds like a curse to me. And all curses can be broken. A kiss born of true love would do it." I looked at her questioningly. What exactly was she telling me to do?

"Oh, child no. I would never suggest a young woman to kiss a man who held her captive. What kind of message is that?"

"Right." I was getting more confused as she spoke. A curse? It did make sense. He was an ordinary man with a son and a wife once, but then he said he lost them. Was it because of a curse? Could that also make him magical and give him gold-dusted skin?

I hadn't had enough time to think. Did I love Rumplestiltskin? I certainly didn't hate him, but even if I did love him, what did it matter? He didn't love me—he just told me to leave, why would he do that if he had feelings for me?

"Besides, if he loves you, he would have let you go. And if he doesn't love you, well, then the kiss won't even work."

"But he did let me go!" Her words excited me. I had never even allowed myself to think that Rumplestiltskin could love me, but if what this woman was saying is true then maybe he did!

"Yes, but no kiss happened." By this point we had stopped walking. My mind was reeling. I was sifting through everything she had said and she was merely looking at me patiently. I almost felt as though she were my fairy godmother. She had so much knowledge and was helping me to understand things that were only just entering my mind.

"And a kiss is enough? He would be a man again?" I had pictured what Rumplestiltskin might look like as a regular man, but in all of my fantasies I could never picture his skin without a slight sparkle to it.

"An ordinary man. True love's kiss will break **any** curse."

I smiled slowly. This could work.

. . .

It had only taken me another hour to reach town after that. The woman who walked with me offered me a ride in her carriage since she was headed that direction anyway. I was able to get into town, collect Rumplestiltskin's straw, and begin my journey back to the DarkCastle before the sun began to dip behind the mountains.

My footsteps were quicker, and even with the heavy basket I felt that I could be back to the castle before twilight faded into total darkness.

I was eager to get back to the castle and watch Rumplestiltskin's expression as I entered—since he was so sure that I wouldn't return I fancied that his expression would be amusing.

In that first moment of seeing each other I would know if he had feelings for me. I had learned enough about his mannerisms to at least see that. When we were talking about his son and my life before coming to the DarkCastle I could feel the magnetic pull we had on each other, and that must have been why he moved away from my touch, because he could feel it too.

As I hurried on I imagined a thousand different scenarios of what would happen when I came back though the doors and back into his life. I though of what would happen when the curse broke, how he would look and act, but mostly I imagined what it might feel like to kiss Rumplestiltskin right on his lips.

. . .

I yanked open the doors to the castle ignoring the ache in my tired arms and headed straight for the spinning room where I knew he would be.

"Oh, you're back already? Good. Uh, good thing. I was … running out of straw…"

He wasn't relaxed and staring off at the wheel like he usually would when he spun, instead he looked anxious. I could tell that he was trying to control his reactions, to pretend like he didn't care that I was back, but I knew that he was happy. I could practically feel his excitement bouncing out of him as he fumbled his way around the wheel.

"Hmm. Come on, you're happy that I'm back." I said putting the full basket down near the wheel.

"Well, I'm not _un_happy." He allowed with a smirk. I felt my stomach fluttering with anticipation. His reactions had been welcoming and friendly. Nothing had been off-putting or uncomfortable about my return.

I made my way around the wheel and placed my hands on his shoulders; they felt firm and strong, probably from spinning so much.

"And you promised me a story." I whispered leaning toward his ear. Being so close to him made my heart race. I thought about all that I had spoken of with that woman on the road.

"Did I?" He asked softly, his shoulders relaxing under my hands. I moved to take the straw from his hand and set it down. I wanted his full attention. I sat on part of the base for the wheel and faced him. Then I took a deep breath and placed my hand on his thigh as I leaned in toward him.

"Tell me about your son." I could feel the heat of his body through his pants. I was mesmerized by the sporadic shimmers his face would create as his expressions changed.

"Uh, I lost him. There's nothing more to tell, really." He held my gaze watching me for tells of what I was thinking just as closely as I was watching him.

"And since then you've loved no one. And no one has loved you." It wasn't a question so much as a statement. I knew that losing his son is probably what caused him to be so closed off from everyone. He had truly suffered and seemed broken. I wanted to help fix him if I could.

He leaned in closer so that our faces were mere inches apart. He was trying to read my eyes, much like he always did, but this time there was no harshness in his gaze and no mask to his face. His proximity made my stomach flutter more.

"Why did you come back?"

"I, I wasn't going to, but then … something changed my mind." I kept his gaze and slowly moved in closer. My heart was racing, my face felt hot, and I hoped more fiercely than I ever had before that he felt the same way I did.

I needed to touch him.

I needed to kiss him.

When I had closed the distance between us and pressed our lips together, I could feel him kiss me back. It was a gentle kiss that didn't last nearly as long as I wanted it to.

He pulled back ever-so-slightly and furrowed his brow like he had a short dizzy spell, his eyes still closed as he tried to orient himself.

"What's happening?"

I felt incredible. Like nothing could tear me down from this happiness. Or so I thought…


	8. Chapter 8: You're a Coward

**AN: **Thank you **Gem India** and **Twyla Mercedes** for the reviews!

* * *

**Chapter 8: "You're a Coward"**

I watched in amazement as his gold-dusted complexion was slowly fading to an olive tone. He was changing! He loved me! I was grinning from ear to ear.

"Kiss me again. It's working." I cupped my hands around his cheeks to keep his focus on me, he was still disoriented.

"What is?" He asked huskily.

"Any curse can be broken." I said quietly looking into his eyes, but his reaction stole my smile from my face.

"Who told you that? Who knows that?!" He yelled backing away from me. I could feel a slight sting on my hand from where it was ripped away from his leg by his movements.

I was frightened. I certainly never expected him to react like this.

"I-I-I don't know… Um, she—she, uh—" I couldn't find words. I felt like my happiness was being ripped away. Why was he so angry?

"She!" He said walking away from me toward a tall mirror across the room that was covered by another one of the old curtains from the windows.

"You evil soul." He ripped the cloth from the mirror and continued yelling into it at his own reflection. "This was you! You turned her against me! You think you can make me weak? You think you can defeat me?"

"Who are you talking to?" I was slowly making my way toward him. He appeared mad, yelling at himself in the mirror. None of his reactions made sense to me.

"The queen! Your friend, the queen! How did she get to you?" He turned away from the mirror and was pointing his finger at me accusingly.

"The queen? I don't—" Queen? Was that woman on the road a queen? I supposed she could be but what was her connection to Rumplestiltskin?

"I knew this was a trick. I knew you could never care for me. Oh, yeah. You're working for her. Or is this all you? Is this you being the hero and killing the beast?" His face was darkening as he spoke. He didn't understand what I was doing—he thought I was trying to kill him for crying out loud!

I had to explain. Every word he spewed out in anger carefully crushed the hope built up in my heart just moments ago. I loved him. And by all accounts of what I had heard and seen he loved me too. I just had to make him see.

"It was working…" I said feebly, but he turned stomping his rage directly at me.

"Shut up!"

"This means it's true love!"

"Shut the hell up!"

"Why won't you believe me?" My voice was pleading. I had no reason to trick him. He was behaving more cruelly than I had ever seen.

"Because no one, nobody could ever, _ever_ love me!"

His eyes were wild, his breathing erratic, and his fingers crushed around my arms as he shook me violently in front of him. I had never felt so feeble, so helpless in all my life. I could do nothing but stare up at him, praying for him to see the truth in my eyes.

. . .

It had been a full day since I had kissed Rumplestiltskin. I had spent every moment since then locked up in my dungeon.

In the silence of the dungeon I could faintly hear his rampage down below. I was frightened of his mindset. He had dragged me up the stairs so quickly and forcefully after yelling at me that nobody could love him. I could see a few bruises already formed from his unchecked wrath.

Nothing had turned out as I had hoped it would. I replayed the events over and over again in mind trying to pinpoint when everything went horribly wrong, but I still had so many questions about the queen and about Rumplestiltskin's curse. Was the queen really hoping to use me against him? But what would she get out of Rumplestiltskin kissing his true love? And how did she know that she would find me to even attempt her plan? Rumplestiltskin's curse had undoubtedly given him his magic, but would removing the curse change who he was, or just take the magic away?

When night approached I couldn't sleep. I still had too many unanswered questions. It wasn't until mid-morning the next day that the pain in my chest lessened to a dull ache. I could hear footsteps outside of the door and tried to brace myself for whatever might happen next.

The door opened slowly and I watched as Rumplestiltskin carefully avoided my gaze. He was carrying the tea tray and set it on the floor.

"Thank you." I whispered seeing the tea and toast set out for me on the tray.

I wanted to say something more, to ask him why he was doing this to me, but as soon as he set the tray down he glanced at me with that hard look in his eyes.

"Don't expect anything else." He said turning away and slamming the door shut behind him.

I brought the tray closer to where I was sitting and poured myself a glass, noticing that he brought up the chipped cup. It reminded me a lot of Rumplestiltskin, not just because it was his favorite cup, but because like the cup, Rumplestiltskin had a chip on his shoulder, but even with the defect there was beauty to it—something elegant and heartbreaking.

This was the first time that Rumplestiltskin had brought me tea or food instead of the other way around. The tea was still warm and the toast wasn't stale. These were hardly the rations of a hated prisoner. I couldn't help but think that he really did love me, but something was stopping him from letting go of the Dark One.

I let that thought comfort me while I waited for Rumplestiltskin's next move. Would he realize that he was being overly protective of himself and come to his senses, or would the hold of the Dark One keep him from true love?

It was later that night when I got my answer.

. . .

The door opened and again Rumplestiltskin did not look at me. He stood in the middle of the dungeon looking out of the window with his back toward me.

"What are you going to do to me?" I asked sensing that whatever he planned would not be favorable to me based on his demeanor. But after how he reacted to my kiss I didn't think that there was anything else that he could do to me that would hurt me more than he already had.

"Go." He said pointing out the door still not looking at me.

"Go?" He wanted me to leave? To just ignore everything that had happened and go?

"I don't want you anymore, dearie." I was wrong. These words seemed to hurt just as badly as his rejection of my kiss.

I stood up to leave, but I couldn't go without telling him exactly what I thought first. I knew I would regret it if I just walked out without a word, and I would be damned if I was going to let him make me regret how I felt.

"You know, you were freeing yourself. You could have had happiness if you just believed that someone could want you. But you couldn't take the chance." I was standing in front of him. I needed to see his reactions.

"That's a lie." His face was carefully crafted to show no emotion, but I could see in his eyes the truth. When you love someone you can tell how they're feeling, even when they do their best to cover it up.

"You're a coward, Rumplestiltskin. And no matter how thick you make your skin, that doesn't change." It was like he was hiding himself away again. I was furious at how easily he was willing to let this go—to let _me_ go.

"I'm not a coward, dearie. It's quite simple, really. My power means more to me than you." His words were calculated and cold, but they weren't the truth. It was as if he had practiced the words over and over again hoping to convince himself, but I knew better. I knew that he cared for me: he wouldn't have let me go the other day if he hadn't, and certainly wouldn't have brought me tea if he hadn't!

"No. No it doesn't. You just don't think that I can love you. Now you've made your choice, and you're going to regret it, forever. All you'll have is an empty heart and a chipped cup." I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I didn't want to let him see me cry over him. I left the dungeon with a buzzing in my ears and tears clouding my vision.

. . .

It seemed that the farther away from the dungeon I got the harder it was for me to see. I couldn't stop the tears from pooling in front of my eyes and splashing hastily down my face. I bumped into one of the pedestals in my haste to get out of the castle and nearly toppled the both of us over.

It was completely dark outside. The wind chilled my unprotected body, especially my tear-streaked face. I longed for the traveling cloak I had before but knew that I was not welcome back in the castle. I pushed onward into the darkness but my tears were still obscuring my vision.

I could feel the level ground of the road under my feet, but then I felt that Rumplestiltskin might be watching me as I left and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me disoriented by his words so I veered left, straight into the forest.

My original plan was to parallel the road under the cover of the tress and then follow the path back up to town. It would be morning by the time I arrived and I could inquire after my village—I at least still had my father— but I had strayed too far away from the light of the moon and could see nothing but trees in every direction I looked.

I had no food or water with me, and no knowledge of what kind of creatures I might encounter in this forest. I felt a slight panic creep in as I realized that I was lost.

. . .

I woke up to the sounds of birds calling to each other. Last night I lay down in a bed of green moss and slept after trying futilely to escape the trees. My energy was drained, and although I feared a wolf or some other creature might find me, I almost didn't care. I had been torn away from my family and home months ago and last night I had been thrown out of the place I was beginning to call home.

I was alone, without protection and without supplies. The only way I would be able to survive this was by being smart. The sun rose directly east of the DarkCastle, so maybe if I moved in a westward direction I could find my way back to the road or to town. It was a long shot, but I had no other ideas so I set off in what I hoped was a westward direction.

. . .

Something was wrong. It had been a day and a half since I had decided to go westward and there had been no signs of the road or of anything other than an endless forest. I needed water. I needed food. I could feel myself getting weak from the expended energy in continuing through the forest.

I had read a few tales about journeys and adventure, how did those characters survive? They looked for sources of water, a river or a lake. I collected what energy I could and looked for slopes of the ground, areas that were more green than others, anything that might lead me to some water.

Eventually I found a slow moving stream. I lapped up as much as I could. The water revived me a little and I was able to climb a stout tree and collect some nuts to eat. After that I fell asleep again. It was dark when I awoke and found only a little comfort in finding a water source.

From the moment I left the DarkCastle I knew it was a mistake. I should have tried to talk to Rumplestiltskin more, but I was so distraught when he told me to leave. After everything that I had been through, and all that I had done, I, too, had acted like a coward. I gave up and left instead of fighting to show Rumplestiltskin that I really loved him.

I felt the ache in my chest return. There was only one way to fix this; I had to return to the DarkCastle and make Rumplestiltskin believe me. I knew that he loved me; I just had to make him see that I loved him too.


	9. Chapter 9: Do the Brave Thing

** AN: **Thank you**Gem India, Drac1026,** and **Twyla Mercedes** for the reviews!

* * *

**Chapter 9: "Do the Brave Thing"**

I started out first thing the next day. I followed the stream to keep a water source nearby, but I wasn't sure that this direction would lead me to the town.

I had been walking for hours with only water and nuts from the trees to sustain me. My limbs ached and my head hurt with hunger and fatigue, but I pushed on. I refused to sit down and surrender to this forest. Especially not after everything that I had already overcome.

"Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow." I repeated this over and over to myself, but after a few more hours my knees buckled, I stumbled forward, and I fell to the dirt with a dull thud.

I rolled onto my side but immediately readjusted when I felt a sharp jab at my hip. At first I thought I had just landed wrongly on some nettles from the trees, but as I ran my hands over the skirt of my dress I found out what had poked me. It was a miniature arrow about six inches long that was pierced through the cloth of my skirt much like a tailor would place pins while adjusting the length or trim of a garment.

I pulled it out of my skirt and examined it more closely. This was not an object I happened to pick up while in the forest. It was familiar, polished, and belonged to a sculpted horseman with a bow poised to be released—much like the statue I nearly overturned while fleeing from the DarkCastle.

The arrow must have broken off from the force of our collision and lodged in my skirt. Upon further inspection I could see that it was made of gold and I felt hope surge within me. At least now I had some kind of collateral to help me when I reached town… if I reached town.

I wove the arrow back through the fabric of my skirt: it had managed to stay this far and I had nowhere else to secure it. Then I got up and sat in front of the stream.

I washed my hands and face which made me feel a tiny bit better—at least I wasn't completely covered in dirt. After I drank some water I noticed a patch of green leaves and tubers at the edge of the water. I grabbed a handful and thought that they looked very much like the green leaves that Rumplestiltskin liked added to his soup.

I weighed the pros and cons of eating them. Pro: I would have something other nuts to eat and there seemed to be a lot of this growing in the stream, so I would have a fairly steady supply. Con: It might be poisonous and I could die from eating it—but if I didn't find something more substantial to eat soon I might die anyway…

I popped some leaves in my mouth and chewed vigorously. They had a peppery taste. I ate a few more and then reevaluated my surroundings. I had been completely oblivious to the food sources available here. I gathered some dandelions and other greenery to make a salad of sorts and added some nuts for texture. It was the most satisfied I had felt since Rumplestiltskin brought me tea and toast in the dungeon.

. . .

The next day I gathered myself another salad and continued toward what I hoped was town. I had stopped to take a rest when I felt the ground shake a little and heard muffled voices that sounded like an argument. It was a good sign—there were other people around!

I quickened my pace and almost cried with happiness when the trees were thinning out and I could see a few scattered buildings. Once I entered the clearing I set off at a frenzied pace toward the nearest building. I had to figure out where I was and how to get to town. From there I could prepare for my journey back to the DarkCastle and to Rumplestiltskin.

I was a few paces off from reaching the first building when I heard someone shout, "hey miss, you can't go in there! We just had a cave in." I turned to face the man who addressed me but I was surprised to see a dwarf.

It was the first time I had met a dwarf in person. I knew that they worked mostly in mines harvesting diamonds, but we had no mines anywhere near my home growing up. This dwarf looked like a short, old man with a beard and a pick-axe that had the word "Helpful" scrawled on the handle.

"Whoa, you okay?" He asked looking at me with shock. I imagine I must have looked crazed after a few days in the forest and my haphazard run into the clearing.

"Town—which way is town?" I nearly panted out trying to get my bearings—which was nearly pointless since the entire area was unfamiliar to me.

He looked at me bewildered for a moment and then pointed behind me. "An hour's walk thatta way down the road… you sure you're okay?"

"I'll be fine. Thank you. Um, do you happen to know how close we are to the DarkCastle?" I had been in the forest for a few days and hoped I hadn't wandered so far off course to end up at a different town.

"Shouldn't be dealin' with the likes o' Dark One, miss. I heard some pretty terrible stories 'bout his dealin's." He said leaning on his axe and I was suddenly annoyed. What did he know of Rumplestiltskin?

"I know perfectly well who he is and what he's capable of. The town you just pointed out, is that the one that's closest to his castle?"

He looked hesitant but then nodded his head. I thanked him and headed off in the direction he pointed to for town.

. . .

It almost seemed strange to hear so many noises after being surrounded by trees. I saw a few people stare at me and I knew that I needed to clean myself up. I traded my golden arrow with the blacksmith for some coins to use while I was here and then bought a simple night-gown from a street vendor before heading for the nearest inn.

My room was one of several on the second floor above a lively pub. I could smell food cooking as I climbed up the stairs and I felt my stomach lurch with hunger. I was glad that I was able to order a sandwich up to my room when I checked in. The last time I was in town I was brought in by "the queen's" carriage and I wasn't sure if anyone might notice me. Just in case I figured I would stay in my room tonight; I didn't want to draw too much attention to myself, especially covered in forest debris.

The room was cozy and warm—a huge improvement from the cold and hard forest and a significant improvement from my mat and blanket in the dungeon of the DarkCastle. I began running the hot tap for a bath and took in my haggard appearance in the mirror above the sink in the washroom.

There were enough pine nettles in my hair that a bird could probably nest there. My dress had smatterings of dirt on it—I would need to wash it after my bath so it could dry over night. My face was paler than I had ever seen it. Even after Rumplestiltskin let me open the curtains I didn't get much sun and it had been months since I had seen a reflection of myself that wasn't on the silver and gold surfaces I polished. The only time I had even seen a mirror in months was when Rumplestiltskin and I had kissed. When things went the opposite of what I had hoped and he had pulled off the covering as he was yelling at it—at _her_…

The queen. A horrible thought struck me: Rumplestiltskin had been talking to the queen through a mirror, what if she had access to **all **mirrors? Aghast by the thought I threw a towel over mine. I had survived months without seeing my reflection; I should be able to make myself presentable without a mirror by now.

. . .

I had bathed, washed and hung my dress to dry, ate the sandwich that was brought up to my room, and snuggled into bed. I was clean. I had a proper mattress and blanket to sleep with, and a night-gown to sleep in. It didn't take long for me to drift off to sleep.

I awoke sometime around mid-morning the next day. I changed into the blue and white dress Rumplestiltskin had given me and managed to tie my night-gown into a bag of sorts so I could store my remaining coins without having to hold them in my hands.

My intention was to go down to the pub for lunch and make a plan for what I would do once I got back to the DarkCastle. It seemed like a simple enough task … at first. But after three hours I had done little more than decide to knock on the door and beg him to let me in. It was a terrible plan if it could even be classified as a plan at all.

I slouched into my seat and allowed myself to look around the pub. It was fairly full and all across the room people were engaged in seemingly idle conversations. I contemplated getting up and wallowing alone in my room for another night since I couldn't come up with an adequate plan regarding Rumplestiltskin, but the conversation at the table next to mine caught my attention. There were two old women gossiping about the town's latest events:

"I saw her with my own two eyes—just yesterday the queen was coming through town from the DarkCastle's road!"

"What business is it of yours if the queen makes a deal with the Dark One? Just be happy she didn't stop and talk to you."

"I heard that the last time the queen was in town she brought the Dark One's slave here to get straw for him. Poor thing. I can't imagine what that beast makes her do locked up in his castle all day and night. And to be escorted by the queen! Messy, messy business."

"I'd rather be taken by the queen than the Dark One. Didn't you hear about that fellow who went in search of the DarkCastle not even a week ago?"

"Not the tall, handsome one?"

"The very same."

"What happened to him?"

"He asked for directions to the DarkCastle and nobody ever heard from him again."

"Maybe the Dark One made him a slave too!"

After that they made a wide leap in their conversation to house chores and gardening, and I stopped listening.

The queen had been to see Rumplestiltskin. Oh, I hoped it had nothing to do with what I did and how he was yelling at her in the mirror! The woman said the queen came through yesterday, I suppose it was a small blessing to be lost in the woods instead of traveling along the road. It would have been absolutely dreadful seeing her again!

Yes, she had been right about true love's kiss, but what a fool I had been in opening up to her like that! I didn't know anything about her—didn't even know she was the queen!—and yet I told her about things I wasn't even sure of myself—about parts of my life with Rumplestiltskin.

I needed to be more careful with what information I gave to others from now on, especially if the queen was nearby. I wondered if she would try to look for me, but if it had been her plan to use me against Rumplestiltskin, so far it was working out in her favor.

. . .

As the day wore on I decided to stay another night at the inn before heading out toward the DarkCastle. It would be dangerous to walk the roads at night, especially alone.

The next morning I quickly ate breakfast in the pub and set out for the road that would take me back to Rumplestiltskin. The only problem was I had no idea where that road was and I would have to ask for directions.

There were a few street vendors peddling their goods to passersby and a small group of dwarves leaving the pub. When I saw a familiar face I slowly approached.

"Hello? Excuse me, sir?" I said pointing timidly to the dwarf who showed me which way to go for town when I first emerged from the forest. He pointed at himself questioningly and I nodded my head.

"You seem to know your way around and I was hoping that you might be able to tell me where I could find the road that would lead me to the DarkCastle."

"There's no way I could talk you outta goin' there, is there?" He looked weary and pursed his lips at me.

"I don't mean to be rude, but it's a personal matter of mine for going to the DarkCastle, and it is not your job nor your business to try to discourage me from doing so."

"Just tryin' to help miss, but if you're set on going, the road's on the other side o' this inn. If you follow it toward the market you'll be heading in the direction o' the DarkCastle."

I thanked him again and set off. The town was slowly filling up with people and I wanted to get out of there in case the queen _was_ looking for me. The last thing I needed was for her to run into someone like those old ladies from this morning. I could practically hear them selling me out to the queen: 'oh, yes your majesty, the sad girl with the curly brown hair she was here. Just left this morning going off to the DarkCastle.'

If the queen was looking for me there would be no way for me to outrun her carriage or her entourage of guards so I needed the head start. I quickened my pace and breathed a small sigh of relief when things started to look familiar.

For once I felt that I was heading in the right direction.


	10. Chapter 10: Wanted

Thanks **Twyla Mercedes** and **Nina68** for the reviews!

* * *

**Chapter 10: Wanted**

It was mid-afternoon and I figured I was about halfway back to the DarkCastle. I had been walking along the road trying to think of a way to convince Rumplestiltskin that I not only loved him but that I wanted nothing from him but his love in return.

I could beg him to believe me, but that didn't work out so well last time…

I could remind him that our deal was for me to stay with him forever, but I felt that would be a weak argument…

I could try to strike up a new deal with him…

That seemed to be my best shot. Now all I had to do was hammer out the finer details of what this new deal would be. I would continue to stay there forever, taking care of the castle and of him. I wouldn't ask to go to town or to leave the castle unless he wanted me to. I would never use a mirror—he could toss them all out if he so wished. All I would ask for in return is that he be honest with me and not push me away…

I realized that ultimately I would just have to wait and see what his reaction was to me being back. If he was happy I may not even need a plan; but if he was angry who knows if a plan would even do me any good.

Even though it seemed futile, I kept thinking through the possibilities anyway. I felt permanently on edge and thinking through plans helped to ease my mind a little—it gave me the illusion that I had control over what would happen next. But what happened just moments after thinking that proved to me that I had no control whatsoever.

I heard a noise, definitely a horse, and then the shuffling and slight clinking of metal hitting metal—like a chain, or armor continuously striking itself.

Terrified I lunged into the shrubbery that lined the road. The trees were too far away and weren't dense enough near the road to provide adequate cover for me. I curled into a ball in a bush and hid myself as best I could.

There were two of them, each on his own horse. They stopped just a little further down the road from where I was hiding. Through the leaves of the bush I was in I could see most of what they were doing. One dismounted and looked around. I immediately recognized the black armor and ostentatious (if not somewhat foolish) helmets. These were two of the queen's guards.

I strained to hear what they were saying.

"It's been three days and we've got nothing!" The one on the ground huffed out.

"The old ladies said they saw her at the pub in town yesterday. That isn't nothing. She's got to be around here somewhere…" The second man said and I felt my heart stop. Two old ladies? In the pub in town? Yesterday? Were they looking for _me_?!

"Where?! In the forest? Do you want to poke around in the forest for another three days? Be my guest! I'm done!" The first one was yelling. They had already been looking for me for **three** days? I was glad that I didn't decide to stay in town for another night—they would have found me for sure. And those gossiping old ladies: they _did_ sell me out!

"The forest is really all that's left to search. We've already looked through the town and they said that she was headed this way. You don't think she already made it to _his_ castle, do you?" The second one said with fear evident in his voice as he looked around. I pushed myself closer to the ground when he glanced my direction.

"Well, I'm not going to go knocking on the Dark One's door to ask if he's seen her."

"But then what are we going to do? If we don't find her the queen will rip our hearts out."

"We'll tell the queen that the girl's dead."

"But she wants her brought back _alive_."

"I know what she wants! But I can't spend another day wandering through the forest looking for a girl who probably is dead."

"I don't know…"

"We'll make a solid story—tell the queen that we were looking for the girl and we found her, but she was already dead. Dehydrated or starved or… or something. There's plenty that could kill a dumb girl in the forest."

I bristled slightly at his comment. I wasn't dumb! But then again, I also wasn't dead, so I guess his comment didn't really apply to me.

"What about her body. Surely the queen would want to see it for herself."

"We'll say that wolves got to her. Tore her body to pieces. We can plant some evidence near the town if we need to."

"It's too risky. The queen will know we're lying and she'll feed us to wolves as punishment, but only **after** she rips out our hearts."

"If you don't agree to tell this story with me and to make it convincing, I'll kill you and tell the queen that when we found the girl you killed _her,_ so I killed _you_."

This was a terrible conversation to listen to. There was talk of murder, of death, and the possibility of some poor girl being killed to look like a dead me. I felt like I might throw up, but I knew that I couldn't draw any attention to myself. I had no idea why the queen would want me, and wanting me alive was only a very small comfort after hearing these two guards talk about her ripping hearts out and torturing people as punishment.

I listened as they argued some more about being found out by the queen. The timid one insisted that they check closer to the DarkCastle and take another sweep around town before heading back to report their lies to the queen. And after a short while the agitated one agreed. I only hoped that nobody would be harmed on my account.

. . .

I wove in and out of the trees surrounding the road after my close-call with the queen's guards. I didn't want to go too far in for fear of getting lost again, and I didn't want to stay in plain sight on the road for fear of capture should the guards reappear.

I kept a close watch of my surroundings and tried to make as little noise as possible. If they were going to check the forest some more there was still a possibility of running into them again, but I had to keep moving. Their appearance had already wasted precious time in my progress toward the DarkCastle. I was nearly jogging to make up for the delay and even so I could see the sun was starting to dip below the tall mountains on the horizon and the sky beginning its soft descent into twilight.

It would be dark soon enough and I had no intentions of staying out here another night, especially with the possibility of having company.

I was perspiring, but my quickened pace was paying off. The DarkCastle had been visible to me at a distance for about an hour and I had been making steady progress in getting ever closer.

Pinks and oranges were mixing in with the white clouds and the blue hues of the sky as sunset commenced. I was a mere 100 yards from the entrance of the castle when my body froze.

In the lingering light of sunset I saw two figures emerge from the forest. They were a mere 50 yards farther from the castle than I was—an easy distance on horseback.

. . .

I knew when they spotted me. One of the men pointed right at me and shouted something. I ran, with the sudden burst of adrenaline, as fast as my legs would go. My only thought was to get inside, to get to the castle before they did.

My dress felt restrictive and it didn't take long for me to feel out of breath but I wasn't going to stop running until I was either inside the castle or the guards had captured me. Although they had the advantage of being on horses, I had a shorter distance to travel and a moment's head start while they recovered from the surprise of actually finding me.

I could hear them shouting things, telling me to "stop in the name of her majesty, the queen" and I knew that they were gaining on me, but in moments I would reach the platform to the front door. Then the unthinkable—but unsurprising—had happened. I felt myself falling. As I reached the platform my foot caught on the step, my momentum propelling me forward.

I stumbled wildly toward the door. I threw my arms out to brace myself for the impact but still crashed roughly into it. I leaned my back against the door and took a moment to look at the guards. One had slowed down—I assumed it was the timid one—but the other was still coming closer, his horse trotting up to the door, intent on taking me from where I was meant to be.

"Rumplestiltskin! Rumplestiltskin!" I was screaming and banging on the door. My hand fumbled around on the surface until I found the knob and turned it desperately.

I fell backwards through the doorway. The guard slowed his horse, suddenly unsure of whether he should pursue me or turn back. I landed roughly on the tile of the foyer and I felt a tiny bit of relief as I watched the guard pull back.

"The queen will be happy to know where she can find you!" He spit out with a sneer, his final attempt to exert his power. Although his words alarmed me I shifted enough to kick the door closed.

I had made it. I was home.

I leaned back on the floor and tried to calm my body and ease the stitch in my side that burned from running. The door had been unlocked. Had it always been unlocked? The thief _had_ been able to get in and steal the wand, and only a desperate fool would enter the DarkCastle without permission.

I was a damned desperate fool.

. . .

I thought that the commotion would have roused Rumplestiltskin, but I could hear nothing save my own breathing. I called out for him again.

Nothing.

I did notice the statue that had unknowingly become my savior when I left: the armed horseman with a bent bow and missing arrow. I fished the two remaining coins I had from exchanging the arrow out of my night-gown-turned-traveling-bag and set them on the pedestal.

Out of habit I wandered into the spinning room, expecting to find Rumplestiltskin leisurely sitting at the wheel spinning, but the room was painfully empty.

Everything seemed to be exactly as it was when I had left. There was a little bit less straw in the basket at the wheel, but the book I had read aloud to Rumplestiltskin was still sitting on the cold, dark hearth. I noticed that the mirror had been covered up again. I was tempted to take off its cover and have a little chat with the queen, but from what I could tell it was a one-way means of communication.

I continued to wander through the remaining rooms on the ground level hoping that maybe I would find Rumplestiltskin resting in a chair or having tea in the dining room, but I had no such luck. The kitchen, the library, the lounge, the dining room: all empty. He must have been out on business.

I sat morosely at the dining room table in what was typically my chair. I could see that some items had already begun collecting a fine layer of dust. I looked around at the various trinkets and noticed that something was different.

On a pedestal where there used to be a large and ornately decorated golden chalice there was a small, elegant—yet simple—tea cup.

I crossed the room and upon further inspection I had no doubt in my mind that this was the very cup that I had chipped my first day at the DarkCastle.

I thought it curious that it should be on a pedestal instead of in the kitchen. On my second glance about the room I noticed that the glass cabinet which housed many of the trinkets that were a bit more delicate had several empty spots and the doors to the cabinet appeared to have been ripped right off.

What in the world happened here?

I hoped that there hadn't been another thief. Nervous that if a thief had come here he might still be in the castle, I took a spear from one of the suits of armor and quietly surveyed the ground floor again. Once I felt satisfied that it was clear, I continued systematically searching the castle for an intruder but more hopefully for Rumplestiltskin.

My search ended at the dungeon. My room. The mat, blanket, and pillow I slept with were still in the room. So was the tray for tea with the tea pot, the plate my toast had been on, and an empty saucer—the cup, as I had already seen, was in the dining room.

I finally took the night-gown/bag off of my shoulder, untied it, and lay it on my blanket. It would be far more comfortable to sleep in that than to continue sleeping in my day clothes.

. . .

I had ended up back on the second floor and gasped at the wreckage I apparently overlooked while searching for an intruder.

Something must have made Rumplestiltskin very, very angry. There were bits of smashed glassware, overturned furniture, torn fabrics, and all manner of mess. I threw what I could in the bin, straightened his bed sheets, and put his soiled clothes in the laundry basket.

The best thing I could do while waiting for Rumplestiltskin to return was to get some of my chores done. If nothing else, it might show him that I truly wanted to stay. Once I felt that his room was adequately straightened, I picked up the laundry and headed for the basement.

I lit a fire in the lounge once the clothes had been washed, and hung them on the line as I always did. As I looked about the lounge I found a book about cooking near the chaise.

I sat down and began flipping through the pages. It was calming and comfortable to be back to my routine. It almost felt as though I had never left and the last three days had been nothing but a bad dream.

The comfort I suddenly felt had made me unaware that someone had entered the castle, traversed through the halls, and stood silently in the doorway to the lounge.

By the time I had realized I wasn't alone it was too late. I was immobilized. Completely unable to move or speak.


	11. Chapter 11: Finding the Truth

Thank you to **Twyla** **Mercedes**, **Drac1026**, and **Guest45** for the reviews!

* * *

**Chapter 11: Finding the truth**

I knew that it had been magic that immobilized me. Unlike when I felt frozen as the guards emerged from the forest, now I wasn't able to move even after the shock of what had happened had worn off.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see him. His muscles were practically vibrating with tension and he was slightly crouched, as if ready to pounce in attack if necessary.

I had been frozen as a preventative measure in case I had a weapon handy. I guess after the thief had been able to get in and shoot him with the magic arrow Rumplestiltskin wasn't going to take any chances.

"It's quite rude, dearie, to enter someone's home without permission. I should kill you simply on principle." He was slowly moving closer to where I was seated. There was a gap in the clothes that were hanging to dry and the fire shone on his features perfectly. I could easily see his wind-blown hair, his gold-dusted skin, and his narrowed and calculating eyes in the dim amber light.

"But I am curious." He continued, his dark eyes twinkling. "Why would you linger? Why get … comfortable? What was your purpose in coming here?"

He could have easily killed me when he first spotted me, snapped his fingers and ended my life, but it was almost like this was another game he was playing. He had created the rules and stacked the odds. I just had to figure out what role he expected me to play.

I wanted to speak, to reach out to Rumplestiltskin and prove to myself that he was really there in front of me, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't do much more than breathe.

I heard a snap and felt a tingle in my throat and on my face. I automatically let out a heavy breath and realized that he had adjusted his entrapment so that I could satisfy his curiosity, answer his questions, play his game.

"Well, dearie? I'm waiting." I could hear a hint of a playful tone in his voice, but it sounded different from what I was used to hearing; it was marred by the power and danger he kept just under the surface.

"Rumplestiltskin." I rasped out. I felt like my brain wasn't processing fast enough.

"Who are you?" Immediately he was on his guard. Few had addressed him as anything other than Dark One. I could see his eyes searching for the details of my face in the dim light. When I looked at him the firelight was reflected on his face, but when he looked at me he must have seen flickering shadows and vague details.

"Your caretaker… It's me, Belle."

Rumplestiltskin's face paled, which was quite a feat with his golden skin reflecting the firelight.

"Impossible. She's …dead." He said quietly and I cringed inwardly.

"Why would you think that?" What could have happened in the days since I left to make him think I had _died_?

His upper lip slid into a snarl of anger and suspicion. I felt my stomach drop. He had never acted so raw and ruthlessly toward me before. What if those guards had already told their lies of my death and he thought that I was someone sent from the queen? But surely Rumplestiltskin would recognize me once he really looked. … Wouldn't he?

"Who are you?!" He yelled as he barreled toward me. His eyes looked black and all traces of our earlier game had disappeared. I wanted to shrink away from him as he reached for me but I was still frozen in place.

His hands locked in a stone-like grip on my shoulders and he tried to shake the truth out from my stiff body. I could feel a few tears threatening to spill from my eyes as I remembered his sudden rage after our kiss only days ago. He shook me then too.

"Did Regina put you up to this? I'll kill her!" He had stopped shaking me but used his grip to turn me haphazardly toward the fire. Then he jumped up on the couch leaving shoeprints on the fabric as he ripped the clothes line from the wall, further eliminating the dark spots and shadows it created. The damp clothes crumpled on the floor.

His eyes were wild and his breathing was erratic and in the chaos of this moment my mind focused in on one detail: "You're making a mess!" I scolded.

We both seemed to stop and stare at each other. I could see a hint of something flash in his eyes before he put on his mask of stoicism and made me stand up.

. . .

I had been locked in the dungeon for hours, and although it was so late that it was beginning to be early, I couldn't sleep. Whatever had made Rumplestiltskin believe that I was dead must have been pretty awful because he refused to listen to anything I said as he dragged me up here to wait while he figured out what to do with me.

It was difficult for me to rally up hope for our reconciliation when he didn't even believe that I was _me_.

He had, thankfully, removed that enchantment that immobilized me once I was in the dungeon, but being locked up gave me little need for the ability to move around. I had been sitting on my mat with my back against the stone wall hoping the Rumplestiltskin would soon come to his senses and realize that I couldn't very well lie about who I was—_I_ didn't have magic.

When he finally did return to the dungeon he had certainly not come to his senses.

"Drink this." He commanded flinging the door open with one hand and holding out a glass vial in the other. His expression was dark and his eyes were cold. I hated that he was not acting as the Rumplestiltskin that I was used to.

"What is it?" I asked cautiously looking at the milky liquid.

"You can drink it willingly, or I can make you drink it. Your choice, dearie." He replied threateningly, wiggling the vial in front of me. I thought about what he meant and slowly reached for the mysterious liquid. I briefly hoped that it wasn't poison before I emptied the contents and swallowed.

His eyes were locked on me. They were carefully flitting about studying my reaction.

The liquid tasted like water that had been left over after boiling potatoes with pepper. I waited for pain or something to clue in me as to what I had just swallowed, but nothing happened.

"Now, who are you?" Rumplestiltskin asked and I furrowed my brow at him. What did he want me to say? He obviously anticipated that I would say something other than who I had already professed to be—myself. Had he given me some kind of truth-telling serum? Did those kinds of things even exist? Though, when I considered the other manners in which people extracted truth from unwilling lips I was happy to only be required to drink a potion rather than to be interrogated or worse.

"You know very well that my name is Belle." His eyes narrowed at my response.

"How are you doing that? That should have prevented you from lying." He looked to be between feeling rage and disbelief at my response.

"I'm not lying!" I yelled standing up in frustration and he moved closer to me in a predatory manner. Instinctively, I backed away until I was pressed against the wall. His hand shot out and encircled my neck, uncomfortably holding me in place.

"I'll kill you if you don't tell me who you really are." He growled out.

"You won't kill me." I said trying to wiggle free of his grasp, but his grip tightened until I started coughing from the pressure and stopped moving.

"I've killed plenty of other people. You have no idea what I am capable of, no idea of what I will or won't do."

"Actually, I do. I-I know that you have goodness in you.—Ahem—I've seen it. You could have—have killed me when you first found me—ahem—in the lounge but you didn't." The pressure on my neck made it difficult to speak.

"That was self-serving. I wanted answers first. But since you refuse to tell me what I want to know, I'll have no trouble killing you now."

"That's not true. You spared my—ahem—life on purpose, just like you spared—ahem—the thief in the woods. There is—ahem—goodness in you Rumplestiltskin, even if you refuse to see it in yourself."

I felt his grip around my neck loosen. He had been so intent on proving that I was someone else that I think it surprised him to realize that I had to be who I said I was. Nobody else could have known about what happened with the thief in the woods apart from me.

"H-how do you know that?"

"I watched as you let him live to be with his love and raise his unborn child. It really is me. Why won't you believe me?"

I watched as his features softened slightly. His hand moved from around my neck to cup the side of my face and I leaned into his touch. But then he pulled away from me with an indecipherable expression on his face.

"No. You left and—and you killed yourself." His voice was low, but steady. He was looking away from me.

"Why would I do that?" I asked gently, feeling the shift our conversation had taken. He could see that I was very much alive, but he was, for some reason, trying to convince himself otherwise.

"Because of me." He was staring at the ground and his words were nearly inaudible, but I heard him clearly. He was blaming himself … for everything.

"That's why I came back."

"Hmm?" He said glancing briefly back up at my face.

"We made a deal; once a deal is struck, it cannot be broken. In exchange for the safety of my people I will stay with you, forever." He scrutinized my face as I spoke and then took a step back, his hand falling from my face.

"Deals are full of funny little technicalities. For example, I've already saved your people." He said with a flourish of his hands. His theatrics were returning and he was putting distance between us.

"Yes, but I haven't kept up my part of the deal. That's why I've come back, why I've come home."

"And for the other three days you were just drinking tea with your pal the queen, hmm?" I could hear the anger in his voice. It was more of an accusation than a question.

"I've been alone. I meant to come back the night I left, but-"

"Tut-tut-tut. What people _mean_ to do is useless. What counts is in what actually transpires." His voice came out as a frustrated reprimand.

"Well, what actually transpired is that I got lost! I knew it was a mistake to leave here… to leave you. I made my way back as soon as I could." I reached out for him, but he backed away from me.

"Why bother? Why not go back to your family, your friends, to the people who actually care about you?" His words plucked at an insecurity I had been wrestling with for a while now: what if he no longer cared for me?

"I wanted to be brave. I wanted to act in a way that I could be proud of, but the only times I had ever been truly brave were with you. I left because I was mad at you. You pushed me away—made me feel like I meant nothing."

"What makes you think anything has changed? You're naïve if you think I do anything other than to serve my own purposes. I'm _not_ good."

"Yes you are." I insisted, but he took another step away from me.

I could practically feel him pushing me back. His guard was up and he didn't want me to get too close. He was pulling away from me just like he did after we kissed, but I was going to do my best to keep him from shutting me out again.

"You're wasting your time on a monster." I hated to hear him talk of himself so lowly. In the time I had known him I had seen his human side: the thoughtful and understanding part of him that he kept hidden deep down inside.

"You are **not **a monster. You just need to learn to control your temper."

"I don't deserve love. You'd agree if you knew even half of what I've done."

"Everyone deserves to be loved." He wasn't looking at me and I was beginning to doubt that he was even listening to me. His words seemed rehearsed, like something he had been telling himself over and over and over. I wondered what had happened to him to make him feel that he didn't deserve love.

"I _can't_ love you." He mumbled out.

"Yes you _can_. You just have to trust me." I countered reaching out to put my hand on his arm.

"No I **can't**! You don't understand—you can't understand! You're wasting your time! I will **NOT** give up my powers! It's the only way to—It's the most important thing. More important than you and far more important than _me._" He was yelling at me and pulled back quickly from my touch.

"But-" In a way he was right, I _didn't_ understand, but I wanted to.

"No! End of discussion!" He said stepping fully into the hallway and slamming the door shut between us, once again locking me in the solitude of the dungeon.

What was it that was so important to him? And what could he have done to think that he didn't deserve love?

Our conversation only gave me more and more unanswered questions. I continued pondering over it all until my eyes refused to stay open.


	12. Chapter 12 Conversations

**AN: **First, I would like to apologize profusely for taking such a very long time to update this story. Next, I would like to thank my reviewers: **Twyla Mercedes **and** Guest45**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Conversations**

It was bright. I stretched under the blanket on my mat. My body felt stiff.

It was the same way I had awoken so many days in this very room. It was such a comfortable feeling that it took a few minutes for me to remember everything that had happened—everything that went wrong.

The sudden wave of disappointment was crushing. There had to be something that I could do. I knew that Rumplestiltskin had loved me, because if he hadn't he wouldn't have started to change after we kissed. But there was something keeping him from letting me in, something that was "the most important thing."

There was a lot that I still didn't know about him, but what was it that consumed him so much that he would deny himself a chance at true love's happiness?

He said he needed his powers to do something. But what was it?

This was so frustrating. It wasn't like I could just ask him to tell me. Nothing about Rumplestiltskin was that easy. I looked around the room while I thought and I noticed movement by the door.

A bit of parchment that had been stuck to the door was fluttering in the breeze coming in through the window.

It was directions: "No need to make breakfast today. The clothes in the lounge need to be laundered again. 1st floor needs dusting and polishing immediately."

That was it.

There was no recognition of anything that had happened the past few days, no real indication that anything had changed from before I had left for town that first time.

The only good feeling that I got from that note was the knowledge that I wouldn't be confined to the dungeon anymore and I could carry on with my duties at least.

The clothes line in the lounge had been restored to its place on the wall. I had washed and hung the clothes again but this time I didn't linger in the lounge while they dried.

Rumplestiltskin took his lunch in the spinning room, which was a clear sign that he wanted to eat alone so I returned to the dinning room to eat by myself after bringing him his food.

It had been a quiet day and I hadn't had any real opportunities to speak with Rumplestiltskin about what needed to be said. I had to be patient, but it was so difficult to act as though nothing had happened between us, like we hadn't been so close, when I was painfully in love with him.

. . .

I brought out the ornately sculpted, gold-plated tea set for dinner. It was unnecessarily ostentatious; the more I looked at the set the more I felt that it should be on display rather than used for tea, but it would have to do since all that remained of the previous set I used was a chipped cup on a pedestal.

I had been meaning to ask Rumplestiltskin about that, too. What exactly was the point in placing the cup on display? But I hadn't been able to talk to him about anything really, and there were matters more pressing to discuss than the placement of a tea cup.

I silently hoped all throughout dinner that things would somehow become more comfortable between us and we would be able to talk about what happened and move forward from there, but whenever I opened my mouth to speak Rumplestiltskin seemed to frown at me and no words would come out. The only noise that filled the dining room was the clanking of cutlery on our dinnerware, and the sloshing of tea in our cups.

I cleared away the dishes and turned around to leave the kitchen for the spinning room. Perhaps I would be able to strike up a conversation in the comfort of the fire by the hearth where I typically read, but I jumped and nearly fell backward in surprise when I saw Rumplestiltskin leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.

"I was just on my way to the spinning room." I said putting my hand to my chest in an effort to calm my rapidly-beating heart. I stood frozen as I watched Rumplestiltskin slowly shake his head and point up toward the ceiling.

I looked up in confusion. "Do you want me to clean upstairs first?"

"No."

I waited for him to clarify but he didn't. So I folded my arms over my chest in annoyance and stared at him silently.

"Up to the dungeon, dearie." He said motioning me to lead the way.

"But…" My words froze in my throat as his icy glare cut into me.

I wanted to argue so that I could stay downstairs in his company a bit longer, but I didn't want to push my luck and end up being trapped up in the dungeon more than I already was. I slunk toward the stairs; the last flickers of hope for our reconciliation I had inside of me were dying.

. . .

The next few days passed much in the same way. I cleaned various parts of the castle and cooked our meals. We spent very little time together apart from when we ate.

In more ways than one things felt very much like they had when I first arrived in the DarkCastle. The comfortable camaraderie that Rumplestiltskin and I built up was gone. Our interactions were short, concise, and awkward.

We rarely spoke to each other, and when I was able to talk to Rumplestiltskin our conversations were brief. When I asked about anything beyond my duties he would hold his hand up to stop me, ignore me, walk away, or send me up to the dungeon.

I did my best to be patient. I didn't try to force conversations beyond my chores or the state of the castle. I went silently up to my room whenever Rumplestiltskin told me to. And I could see that as the days went by he was warming up to me again: he would chastise my cleaning, watch me while I worked, and he even asked me to start reading to him again after dinner.

. . .

I had been cleaning the spinning room all morning. I almost felt as though he was purposely making this room a mess because not even two days ago I was in there straightening, polishing, and dusting. Even for being the room that was used the most it shouldn't have needed _that_ much attention, but I didn't complain. I liked spending my time with Rumplestiltskin, even if it was in such a circuitous and veiled manner.

I was supposed to be dusting, but mostly I was watching him. He was spinning.

When Rumplestiltskin was at the wheel it was almost like he was at peace. The hard lines of his face disappeared, his muscles moved effortlessly through the motions, and he frequently lost all track of time.

I should have been paying more attention to what I was doing instead of what _he_ was doing, but I couldn't help myself. If I had been paying attention to what _I_ was doing I would have seen the straw that had strayed from the basket and was lying across the floor. I would have stepped around it instead of on it and I wouldn't have become a flailing mess of limbs suddenly falling toward the floor.

I kicked the basket in my attempt to stay upright and only succeeded in upending both of us. I landed with a thud on the floor and closed my eyes while the rest of the straw rained down over me.

I slowly opened one eye and then the other to survey the damage I had done when I heard Rumplestiltskin say, "You are awfully clumsy for someone with all the appearance of grace."

"I never claimed to be graceful." I retorted swatting a piece of straw away from my face. I could see his lips tug up as he fought off a smile.

He stood over me. I accepted his hand without hesitation when he offered it to me. I was reluctant to release it once I was standing again, but eventually I had to let go of him. To my surprise he didn't move away from me as he had been doing as of late. It had been a long time since he allowed me to be this close to him.

I stared at his face absorbing its every detail. His skin still held its mesmerizing golden hue. His hair, which was neatly combed, framed his face. His eyes were wide and soft. It was a rare treat for me to see him looking so open—so vulnerable.

I could see his eyes flit about my features too, but much more quickly. I heard a quiet chuckle escape him as he looked at my hair. So swiftly that I hadn't even seen him move, his hand began plucking straw out of my curly locks.

I was so completely absorbed in his nearness that I hadn't realized I was slowly leaning in toward him until his hands fell to my shoulders and pushed me away.

"What's wrong?" I asked doing my best to hide my disappointment.

He frowned at me and moved to sit at his spinning wheel once more.

"Don't ignore me. I can't stand it when you ignore me." I said kneeling down in front of him and clasping his hand in mine. I could feel him half-heartedly try to pull away.

"It's better this way." He mumbled out.

"No it isn't." I argued. "What's so wrong with wanting to be with the person that you love?"

He finally managed to slide his hand away from mine, but he remained seated in front of me.

"Love. Hmpf. I've seen people do terribly stupid things in the name of love." I frowned at his response. This is not the turn I wanted this conversation to take, but I had to consider it a small victory that the conversation was happening at all.

"And what terribly stupid thing have you done in the name of love?" I asked hoping that he didn't have a response, but also curious about his past.

I knew immediately that it was the absolute wrong question to ask. His eyes hardened and his complete character changed.

He almost never discussed his past and even less often discussed what or who he loved. I knew that he had a wife before because he told me as much when he told me of his son. He said that he had lost them both and until now I had always thought that meant they had died, but what if he just _lost_ them?

I was beginning to understand how it could be worse for the ones you love to not be dead, but to be alive and just out of reach.

"Just because people do stupid things for love doesn't make love stupid. I'm sure plenty of people would think that I've done terribly stupid things in the past few days and I wouldn't disagree with them, but it has been worth it." I said as he began to stand up. I didn't want him to leave. I needed to know why he was pushing me away again.

"It's not just doing stupid things, love is selfish, love is pain, love is weakness…"

"No. You aren't talking about love; you're talking about something else. Because everything I know about love is the exact opposite. Love makes you selfless—putting someone else's needs above your own. Love is about making a deal with another person and working together to see it through."

"I know all about making deals, dearie. They rarely are because of love and are even less often selfless."

"How is it that you can be such a coward when it comes to love and such a strong and confident man when it comes to your 'business'? It's not like you've never broken a deal before, right?" I asked completely frustrated by him.

He stood up fully, and began to leave the room before he answered.

"One. I've broken one deal in my life and until I can fix that all of your prattling about love means nothing to me."

I jumped up after him and followed him into the hall.

"Can't I at least know what it is that you're trying to fix? What is it that is more important to you than true love?"

I was following him to continue the conversation. I could hear his frustration with me building as he spoke, but at least he was still speaking to me and not ignoring me.

"Family is more important." He finally said as we reached the base of the stairs.

Did he do something to make his wife and son leave? Is that how he lost them? What could be broken about a family that would need magic to fix it?

"I don't understand. How can you fix your family?"

He continued up the stairs to the second floor where his room was.

"With a curse."


	13. Chapter 13: Selfish

**AN: **Thanks to my wonderful reviewers: **Twyla Mercedes, Drac1026, **and **Jewel415**

* * *

**Chapter 13: Selfish**

"A curse? What kind of curse?" I shouted at him through the now-closed door to his bedchamber.

The conversation was over, but I got the feeling that he had told me far more than he ever intended to. He hadn't even bothered to lock me in the dungeon—not that I was complaining about that. He went to his room to protect himself from telling me more.

The thought thrilled me. He had to have cared about me whether he wanted to believe it himself or not. Otherwise he wouldn't have been comfortable enough to tell me such privileged information. I was certain that he hadn't spoken of this to anyone.

Maybe there was some way that I could help him reunite with his son and that would free him from being the Dark One. But I still didn't understand how it all happened. What exactly had separated them in the first place? What would this curse do to undo that? What would be the consequences of letting such a dark thing out into the world?

I wanted to investigate, but I knew that if Rumplestiltskin caught me snooping through his things he would be furious, and the strides I had made since my return would be undone.

. . .

I spent the next morning driving myself mad.

I woke up early with a restless mind and began my duties with cooking breakfast for Rumplestiltskin and myself. This would have been completely typical, if only I could turn off my brain.

I couldn't help but think of Rumplestiltskin and his son. I wondered if he gained _his_ knowledge of cooking from making meals for them when they were together. Then I wondered about what kind of foods they would have access to—obviously he wasn't always the Dark One, he had been Rumplestiltskin first—but what kind of life did _Rumplestiltskin_ lead?

Was he a sheep-herder? Was he a merchant? Did he spin? Surely, he must have been a spinner, but was it his trade or merely a hobby?

I felt that I would burst with questions once I brought breakfast into the dining room, but instead I stared silently at Rumplestiltskin speculating about his past. There was so much that I wanted to know, and I felt confident that he would tell me… eventually. I just had to keep reminding myself that patience is a virtue.

"What is it you're thinking of?" Rumplestiltskin asked breaking the silence that had fallen over us. Apparently we were both preoccupied with my thoughts.

"I was thinking of patience, and reminding myself how important it is to have it."

"And what, pray tell, is particularly trying your patience? Me, perhaps?" He asked teasingly, but I knew that he was genuinely interested in my response.

"It wouldn't be much of a leap since you frequently try my patience." I replied with a small smile. I loved when our conversations were light and playful. Things had been far too dense and dark as of late. It was refreshing to banter back and forth like we used to.

"True as that may be, dearie, you didn't answer my question."

"Yes. I was reminding myself to be patient with you."

"Patient about what, exactly?"

"For you to love me enough to let me in."

His brow furrowed at my response and he studied my face a long time but made no reply.

. . .

It had been three days and I still had no answers. I couldn't even find anything to enlighten me to Rumplestiltskin's past as I secretly snooped during my cleaning duties. I only found things to rouse even more questions about Rumplestiltskin, like what was the story behind the puppets that were displayed on a pedestal, or why did his library include a book title Neverland?

One night, in the spinning room my patience finally snapped.

"I want to help you get your son back." I said placing my hand on Rumplestiltskin's arm to stop him while he was spinning. Maybe if he was able to see his son and set things right with him the darkness that seemed to lurk down within Rumplestiltskin would fade away.

"How can _you_ help, dearie?" I could hear a tone of condescension in his question, but I chose to ignore it.

"I don't know, but I know that I want to help you. We can't move forward until you've your son back. And I think this castle would be a far more cheerful place with a young one running around. How old is your son, anyway?" I felt myself rambling, but once I let go of being 'patient' it was hard to rein it back in.

"He was fourteen when I lost him… I'm not quite sure how old he would be today." Rumplestiltskin's voice was a quiet murmur.

I looked at him queerly. It should be simple math to figure out his current age: how long he has been gone + how old he was.

"How long has he been gone?"

"I'm not sure that time moves at the same pace where he has been taken to."

That stopped me short. _Where he has been taken to_… was he _kidnapped_? And why would time move differently? Unless he had been taken to another world…

"What _happened _to him? You said you lost him, but was he taken? Do you know where he is? I'll do what I can to help you but you have to let me in." I could hear the faint desperation in my voice.

"I'm afraid you can't help me. Not with this, not with Bae." Rumplestiltskin said while all I could do was stare at him dumbstruck. If I couldn't help him, then he probably needed magic to do whatever he was planning.

"Rumple, what does the curse do?" Just how far was he going to go?

He tore his eyes away from mine and slowly began to spin his wheel again.

"It must be something very powerful. Will people be hurt? Will they be… killed?"

He wouldn't look at me.

"I know Bae is important to you, but that doesn't justify using a dark curse and possibly hurting innocent people."

Rumplestiltskin's expression turned harsh and he moved away from my touch.

"Innocent! _Nobody_ is son is **my **business! You can't help me and I don't need you. I'm not talking about this anymore."

I felt myself deflate. He _didn't_ trust me as I thought he had. He knew way more than he was going to tell me. He was keeping me at a distance.

He was hiding.

I felt as though I was being crushed by the realization I just had. As long as he could keep secrets like this from me—as long as he didn't _trust_ me—we couldn't be together.

Things were different when I first left for town. Then he wasn't completely sure that I could love him, because even he couldn't love himself, but now… I couldn't keep doing this. I couldn't keep bending over backwards to prove that I loved him. If he didn't believe, after everything I have done, that I truly loved him—that I would be there for him, even if he didn't deserve it—then he was choosing not to believe it.

He was being a coward.

"I understand. Pardon my intrusion. Should you change your mind, you know where to find me." My voice was stiff, formal. I stood up, made a slight bow toward him to excuse myself, and went up to the dungeon.

Maybe it would be better to keep myself at a distance as well: to look at Rumplestiltskin as my master and to look at myself as the caretaker of the estate and nothing else.

Maybe…

Maybe I could learn to fall out of love with such a selfish, cowardly man.

. . .

I had been nothing but professional and practically nonexistent in the castle for days. I completed my duties efficiently, silently. And then I would stay in the dungeon reading, or convincing myself that I was doing the right thing.

If Rumplestiltskin was too cowardly to let himself love me, then I couldn't force him into it and I wasn't going to make myself miserable by waiting for him to come and swoop me off my feet. He wasn't the Prince Charming type, and that wasn't what I wanted him to be. I just wanted… him—**all** of him

Rumplestiltskin had followed my example, and though I could tell that he didn't enjoy my new coldness toward him, he didn't bring it up. It had been nearly a week before he had even really acknowledged that things had changed. That was when he locked me out of the library.

After dinner that night I made my way to the library to fetch a new book before isolating myself in the dungeon again, but the doors were closed—locked. Since the locks in this castle worked by magic I had no choice but turn to Rumplestiltskin.

I found him spinning, as usual.

"Why is the library locked?"

"If you're going to act like a prisoner, might as well go all the way, dearie, and reading is a luxury that prisoners don't have." He replied in a harsh voice.

"I'm not acting like a prisoner! I'm just… saving you the trouble of pushing me away."

For an instant I could see confusion cross his features.

"It has become obvious to me that I care for you more than you can care for me. I don't want you to feel obligated to talk to me or tell me about your life, so I will simply perform my duties and stay out of your way."

His stare was calculating and I could see him weighing my words and forming his response, so I continued.

"I'd like to be able to spend my extra time reading, but if you won't allow it, I suppose I'll use my time another way…"

"No. You can read… in the spinning room. You won't … bother me." Then he flourished his hand and added, "You may get your book."

. . .

It may not have seemed like much, but by Rumplestiltskin telling me I could read in the spinning room specifically was as good as him saying he missed me.

From here we fell back into a pretty comfortable routine.

I still tried to keep a professional distance from him, but sometimes just being in close proximity to him made my heart race, especially with how I had seen him looking at me lately.

One night I was reading by the fire and I suddenly felt the pressure of someone's gaze upon me. When I looked up Rumplestiltskin was standing a few feet in front of me.

"Belle, I need you… to listen. I want to tell you about something very important." He said sitting down in the chair next to mine.

"What is it, Rumplestiltskin?"

"The curse."

"The curse you're going to use to get your son back?" I asked shutting my book and abandoning it on the hearth.

"I'm not going to enact the curse… I'm merely benefiting from it." He said, which to me sounded like a way to keep himself from blame.

"Who's going to enact it?"

"A very vengeful soul." He said evasively.

"What does the curse _do_? I mean, how will it bring your son back?"

"It won't."

"But—" I looked at him curiously. Hadn't he been saying that this curse would give him his son back?

"The curse won't bring Bae back to the EnchantedForest. The curse won't undo the fact that he was taken from me, but it will create a portal that will bring me to him."

"A portal? You're—you're going to leave?"

"We all are."

"All? Why would everyone go?"

"That's how the curse works. Everyone will be transported to a new world."

A new world? I've read about places very different from here, but I don't think I should like to live there. The EnchantedForest is my home.

"And what about _this _world? What will happen to the EnchantedForest?"

"It will be destroyed." He said matter-of-factly.

"Why?" I asked desperately.

"Because all magic, comes with a price." He replied, characteristically pointing his index fingers upward.

Destroyed? The castle, the town, the place where I grew up, would be turned to rubbish. My home, my father…

"What about the people? What will happen to them… to _us_?"

I could see him hesitate before he spoke.

"Everyone who goes through the portal will be cursed."

"Cursed how, Rumple?" I asked with an edge in my voice. With all of the terrible things that I knew dark magic could do, I was beginning to become afraid.

"The curse will rip away everything that you love, all the happiness you have had will be gone. You won't even remember what happiness is. You won't remember anything—except what the curse gives you. You will be lost. Frozen in time."

I let out a ragged breath as I thought about what he said. Everyone unhappy, lost, and without memories.

"But how could someone gain anything from that? What's the point of cursing everyone?"

"Not everyone gets their happy ending, dearie."

"I know that! How could I not know that after everything that _we've_ been through?"

It was quiet between us for a few moments.

"How can you let this happen?" My voice was just louder than a murmur. His eyes which had been actively scanning my face trying to read my reactions, suddenly locked on my eyes with a hostile intensity.

"**This** is how I get Bae back. Nothing else—no one else—matters."

"But if the curse is to rip away everything that we love, take **all** of our memories, how do you expect to remember who your son is, let alone find him if you do?"

"I'm the Dark One, dearie. Magic affects me a little …differently."

"But if, for instance, I were to see you in this new world… I wouldn't remember that I know you, that I love you."

"No." He replied through clenched teeth.

"And **everyone** would have their happiness ripped away from them?"

"Yes."

If I wouldn't be able to remember my father or Rumplestiltskin in this new land, I would essentially have nothing.

"This is what you think will make you happy? Enacting this curse to try to find your son, to find Bae?"

"I'm going to find Bae." He replied resolutely.

For every awful thing that people had to say about Rumplestiltskin no one could deny that he was steadfast. He truly loved his son and was willing to sacrifice—quite literally—everything in this world in order to find him.

As far as the curse is concerned, I'm pretty powerless. I know very little of magic, and even with that knowledge I know nothing about using it. For all of the evil that was expected to come with this curse, perhaps there is something that I can do to bring something good out of it…

"Is there something I can do to help you?"

"What?" He asked leaning forward to look at me more closely.

"With the curse, is there anything I can do?" I asked simply.

"You-you're not going to try to stop me?" He asked with surprise.

"You aren't the one enacting the curse. Obviously, I don't want others to have to suffer or have their happiness taken from them, but maybe something good can come from this too. You can find your son. And if you refuse to let me love you and refuse to acknowledge your love for me, my true happiness in this world is already gone. I might as well selfishly spend these days with you in whatever way I can before all of my memories are taken from me, too."

Rumplestiltskin was quiet for a long time. It seemed as though he was having some sort of inner argument with himself. When he finally did look at me, he nodded his head once and then left the room.

I looked upward and closed my eyes. "What am I getting myself into?"


	14. Chapter 14: The Curse

**AN: **Thank you to my lovely reviewers: **NinaGold, Stargate533, Drac1026, **& **Twyla Mercedes**

My personal life has been quite... demaning as of late. I have the last few chapters outlined and am hoping to update those much quicker than I have been updating. My apologies for making you wait!

* * *

**Chapter 14: The Curse**

It was a bright sunny day. I had been reading my book by the window, enjoying the weather of early spring. Something outside caught my attention. Upon further inspection I could see that it was a person, a man walking up to the castle.

Who in the world would come _here_? I strained my eyes to make out the details of our visitor. I glanced back to Rumplestiltskin who was quietly spinning at the wheel, completely absorbed in his actions and unaware of anything else.

The man looked familiar. In fact, he looked familial. It was my father! I gasped and pressed up against the window. I could see his happy smile on his age-weathered face.

Just as I started to get up and meet him outside the sky changed. Dark clouds loomed in the sky, wind whipped across the grounds, and rain started to fall. I looked at my father and watched as he was suddenly ripped apart—pulled out of sight.

I felt myself scream and bang on the glass. Everything stopped… except for the ticking sound the wheel made as Rumplestiltskin spun.

Tick. Tick, tick. Ti-ti-ti-tick. It was going faster and faster.

I turned to face him, to make sense of what was going on. "W-why?"

"Well, what did you expect a curse to do, dearie?" He asked with a wicked smile.

. . .

"Waken up, Belle! Waken up!"

I could feel strong hands shaking my shoulders and I struggled to open my eyes. Then, I looked around frantically for my father.

I was in the dungeon.

It was just a dream—no, not a dream, a nightmare.

My gaze landed on Rumplestiltskin who was still slightly shaking me. I had goosebumps, but felt sweaty. My heart was racing and I was out of breath. I could feel tears on my cheeks but didn't remember crying.

"What? What happened?" I gasped out staring at Rumple. He looked nervous.

"You were screaming. Shrieking. I thought you were… hurt."

I stared at him silently for an immeasurable moment; his expression was so soft compared to the hostile and menacing creature I had seen in my dream.

He looked away first, dropping his hands from my shoulders.

I must have been screaming quite loudly for him to have heard me from one of the lower levels of the castle.

"Uh, right. Well, I'll take my tea in the spinning room… whenever you're ready, dearie." Then he left my room. He was obviously uncomfortable with the entire situation.

I leaned back on my bed and took several deep breaths.

How was the curse supposed to take away the things we love most? Could it really be something as awful and absolute as death? If the curse was set to destroy this world, the extent of its terribleness must be great.

I had so many questions, but of one thing I was completely certain: I could not allow Rumplestiltskin to enact the curse.

. . .

I wanted to talk to him about the curse during breakfast… and lunch, and dinner. I couldn't find the words that would make him understand that finding his son couldn't possibly be worth the price of tragedy required. On top of that, every time I started to think of what might happen once the curse was set loose I would see my father being torn apart and I would loose all my nerve.

I was in a terrible state all day. I may have only said three words aloud although I could have written volumes from my thoughts.

I needed to figure out when the curse was meant to be enacted so that I knew how much time I had to convince Rumple not to do it and how severe my course of action needed to be.

I had been sitting at the hearth with my book in my hands, but staring at Rumple for too long. When he finally opened his mouth to say something about it to me, I blurted out the words before the conversation could lead elsewhere.

"When will the curse be ready to be enacted?" I could hear the ticking of the spinning wheel while I awaited his response, and I breathed a sigh of relief when it stopped moving instead of going faster like in my dream.

"It's been ready for ages. She just needs to use the, uh, _proper_ ingredients."

My heart sank. I would have much less time than I had hoped for.

"How long?"

He looked out the window at the star-filled sky, "Oh, time for bed already?" He asked standing up to leave.

"Rumple! How long until it's enacted?"

"Hard to tell, really. It could be days."

I dropped my book in shock. Days!? How was this possible? He must have given the curse to whoever '_she_' was on one of his 'business' outings long ago, and here I was naïvely thinking that Rumple was still in the process of making it!

"How do we stop the curse?" I looked up to see that my words were falling into an empty room; Rumplestiltskin had already left.

. . .

The castle was empty. I found myself in the spinning room. I thought back to the day I had first returned to this room—the day I kissed Rumple. Everything in the room was just as it always had been, except the curtains.

The curtains had been changed after I fell trying to get some sunlight into the room. Rumple had saved me that day by catching me. That was before things were too complicated.

Later he changed the curtains so that I may open them as I wished. The heavy curtains that remained were put to other uses. One, in fact, remained in this room: it was draped over a tall, free-standing looking glass.

I tugged on the material and watched as it slid to the floor exposing the glass, but I saw no reflection of myself or the room.

Instead the glass showed a collection of dwarves leaving the mines after a day's work. I watched as they scrambled homeward in an attempt to outrun a terrible dark shadow that was quickly falling upon them.

Several more scenes crossed the glass, each one becoming more and more sinister until there was nothing left of the EnchantedForest but dying embers and charred remains.

I felt myself wake up immediately but struggled to push through the crushing weight of the extreme hopelessness I just felt.

I saw Rumple standing in the doorway of the dungeon. Unlike yesterday he wasn't shaking me awake, but rather he was watching me from a distance. The awkwardness of his stance made me wonder if he had something to do with how quickly I had awoken.

He was carefully reading my expression—at least this nightmare didn't reduce me tears, but I must have been screaming again for him to have come up here and wake me.

"I'm going in to town."

I was a little confused by his statement. He rarely told me when he was leaving somewhere. It was odd for him to tell me now; I usually only knew that he had left upon his return.

I could see from his expression that he probably had a pretty good idea of what I had been dreaming of—the topic that made him disappear whenever it was brought up.

I thought of my failed attempts to keep Rumple from enacting this curse and the limited amount of time I had left.

"Can I come with you?"

"It's just a trifle of business. Nothing to bother yourself over." He replied dismissively, but his eyes showed his surprise in my question. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't want to be anywhere near where he was conducting 'business' especially since I had to clean out the stains that remained on his clothes after such outings, but I knew that if I wanted to speak with him about keeping the curse from happening there would be no better chance than when he was trapped in a carriage with me and couldn't simply walk out of the room.

"I'd love some fresh air." I said. And then—perhaps this was beneath me—I leaned forward and looking up at him from under my lashes I added in a pleading voice, "I'd really like to stay with you. Please?"

I could see him wrestling with some internal dilemma but then he slowly closed the distance between us and held out his hand to me.

. . .

We had been traveling along in the carriage in near silence. Rumple was rarely a great conversationalist, and I wanted to wait to speak of the curse until we had made it a considerable distance from the DarkCastle. I was afraid that if I broached the topic too quickly Rumple might turn around and leave me at home after all.

When I felt that it would be inconvenient for him to turn the carriage around I began talking. Trifles at first: questions about my duties, the DarkCastle, and then finally about what this errand was for—to which he replied, "business."

"So this isn't about the curse?"

He frowned at me and then looked out the window.

"Rumple, you can still stop this."

He made no reply but his body was tense.

"The curse doesn't have to happen." I was pleading.

"Yes it does, Belle. For Bae, so I can be with him again." He was still looking out the window.

"We'll find another way. There must be another path that doesn't involve so much senseless destruction and pain."

"You didn't seem too concerned about the destruction when you said that you wanted to help me." He replied hotly and I felt myself blush in shame as I remembered my moment of selfish weakness.

"I **do** want to help! But not like this. I can't go on knowing that harm will be done to others and I did nothing to try to stop it. I feel constantly uneasy, my head aches, and I… I've been having nightmares—seeing the destructive possibilities of this curse."

"I didn't ask you to get involved with the curse. You pried and pleaded for me to tell you."

"But now that I know I can't sit idly by and do nothing. You must know that this is wrong Rumple. It's barbarically selfish and I know that you are a better man than that. You aren't as dark as everyone says you are."

"You're right, dearie, I'm not… I'm even darker."

I opened my mouth to counter his argument, but Rumple snapped his fingers and my voice disappeared.

I tried again and again to speak but only ended up looking like fish. I slammed my fists on either side of me completely frustrated—even more so by my inability to express said frustration.

My jaw was clenched and my eyes were set in an unforgiving stare at Rumple. A lesser man would have been broken by the inhospitable atmosphere I brought to the carriage, but Rumple seemed smugly un-phased.

"Quite pleasant to have company on a journey, isn't it, dearie?" He asked in his teasing tone, which I usually found delightful but only found infuriating at the moment.

I turned my gaze to the woods through the window. From the corner of my eye I could see that he dropped his blithe attitude. I couldn't tell if he had been acting childish and carefree for my benefit or his own.

"This should be close enough." He said stopping the carriage and opening the door. As I began to scoot off my seat he shook his finger at me.

"Ah, ah, ah. You're going to wait in the carriage."

I shook my head furiously at him and continuing my attempt to leave the carriage. He put his index finger forcefully against my shoulder and pushed me back against the seat.

"This isn't me asking. You will stay in the carriage. Whenever you go into town things get—you will not be going!"

I was affronted by his reprimand but I could hardly deny that the town and I had a rather dark history. First there was the run-in with the queen, then there was the run-in with her guards.

I slumped into the seat defeated.

"I shan't be long." He said closing the door behind him.

. . .

I felt as if I had been waiting for Rumple for days, though it couldn't have been more than an hour. I had nothing to occupy my time with apart from my thoughts, and the longer I waited the more twisted and dreary my thoughts became.

What if Rumple lied to me and he was here about the curse? He had said the trip was about business, but that could mean anything—everything! What if he was looking for the 'proper ingredients' that were needed to enact the curse?

That thought nearly launched me from the carriage, but when I tried to push open the door it wouldn't budge. I tried a few more times until I realized that it must be enchanted to stay closed—to keep me from following him into town.

I wanted to be angry with him for trapping me, but if I had magic I would have kept him from going to town, too.

I silently huffed in defeat and leaned back into the seat. It was then that I heard the horses whining and stomping their hooves to the ground. Something had spooked them. I looked through each of the windows but could see nothing approaching or leaving the area where we were. Maybe there was a snake or some other creature that disturbed them. I did my best to brush aside my irritation at not being able to go out and comfort them.

A few moments passed in silence, but then the horses started up again and I felt the carriage jolt as if the horses were trying to pull away from whatever was frightening them.

The woods and the objects around us remained the same.

It was the sky that caught my attention. The color was shifting, as if the sky itself were tumbling about in a torrent of grays, blues, and purples coming straight at me like the frontlines of an army brigade.

I gaped at the image in horror. I was trapped in this place, and without a voice to cry for help!

Even though I was fairly well protected by the carriage my eyes burned from the debris flying about in the sudden storm. It felt like this darkness was pulling the very energy from my body up into the air. My lungs ached and my vision grew hazy.

The darkness was settling in and I could no longer discern when my eyes were open or closed. The torrent had continued on past me and I was surrounded.

I had failed.


	15. Chapter 15: Storybrooke

** AN: ** Thank you to my reviewers: **HelenaHermione** and **Twyla Mercedes!**

* * *

**Chapter 15: Storybrooke**

It was Thursday, which meant two-for-one drinks at the Rabbit Hole. It wasn't really an exciting place until the weekend, but there wasn't anywhere else to go in this town—well, at least nowhere else that wasn't crawling with grandmothers or uptight schoolteachers.

I rolled over and nearly fell out of my twin-sized bed. This room was small, under-furnished, and cheaply decorated. The only appeal it held for me was the freedom that came with it.

I had been living with my father, Moe French, up until he gave me an ultimatum: start helping out at the flower shop he owns and abide by his rules or get out.

I was definitely too old to have a curfew and had no interest in spending more time with my father. He never understood how boring Storybrooke was and how much I resented him for moving me here after mom died.

I tried to remember what she was like—what our life was like before we came here, but my memories felt hazy like a dream I couldn't quite recall.

Now was the time for moving forward, away from my boring past, and toward the life I wanted to live.

I took another look around my shabby room in Gaston's small house. It was free room and board because Gaston always had a crush on me. I'd let him buy me drinks and sometimes we would fool around, but it was nothing serious.

He was convenient, but I never really cared for Gaston. He would always talk about how he was going to be a GQ model someday, that or he would join the army. He definitely had a model's body, but he was getting old and was kind of stupid for the army. He would probably end up working at the ice cream parlor until they fired him for giving out too many free cones to girls he wanted to sleep with.

I looked through the pile of clean clothes I had left and slipped on a short, blue-sequined dress. Gaston always liked when I wore blue. I wanted to go out tonight and I knew he'd agree to anything I said while I was wearing this.

. . .

I had always been more of a night owl. Mornings didn't hold much sway over me, so Gaston wasn't surprised when I slunk into the kitchen, making my first appearance for the day, at three in the afternoon.

His hair was messy and he was wearing jeans. He had today off which meant we could probably shark a few billiard games together and make some extra spending money for this weekend.

"You hungry, Lacey? I can make you a grilled cheese." He said eyeing my legs as I sat on the barstool next to him at the counter. A grilled cheese is the highest culinary meal that Gaston was capable of making. We ate a **lot** of cereal and grilled cheese sandwiches.

"I want to go out tonight." I said resting my hand on his thigh—that always got his attention.

"Sure, where do you wanna go?"

. . .

"Yes! That one was mine, right?" I said stupidly after hitting in one of Gaston's balls at the billiard table.

"No, you're stripes, I'm solids." He replied slowly pointing to each one.

I shrugged and downed the rest of my drink.

"I still got it in." I said winking at a group of guys sitting nearby.

Gaston rolled his eyes at me, but I was having fun making a bit of a spectacle. I had to be sure to look confident, but clumsy. I was keeping my eyes on the group in the back corner. Most of them were wearing designer clothes which meant they had some money. They were all guys, which meant the odds were in my favor for at least one of them taking my bait if I dangled it enough.

Gaston handed me another drink and then made his shot and the number 2 ball slid right in to the corner pocket. He smirked and thanked the noisy redhead who was cheering him on. A key instrument in my bait working was to show the fish that I wasn't attached to Gaston romantically.

He shot again and sank that shot too. Only one solid left… lucky number 8.

"Lucky shot!" I said waving my hand about and sloshing my drink. "Oops." I made sure to spill a little on one of the shoes from my group in the corner. Then I grabbed a napkin and bent over to wipe away the alcohol.

"That's alright sweetheart." He said with a slick smile.

I finished the rest of my drink and said, "There, now I can't spill it."

While I was chatting Gaston made his final shot and won the game.

"You cheated!" I said obstinately.

"Nope, but you definitely lost." He replied smugly holding his hand out.

I pulled a small wad of cash out from my dress, counted a few bills out, and handed them to him before putting the rest back in the bodice of my dress. Really, I was just giving Gaston his money back since he was my source of income.

"I only lost this time because you cheated while I wasn't looking. I could beat **anyone** in this bar on my next game." I said confidently.

"Prove it." Gaston countered.

"$100 on the next game! Any takers?" I asked looking around and making eye contact with the guy who I spilled my drink on. He had blonde hair and was a bit older than most of the people who frequented the Rabbit Hole. He looked familiar, but in a small town everyone seemed familiar.

He and his buddies were whispering back and forth like high school girls and I had to remind myself to keep a friendly and inviting look on my face. Finally the blonde in the front stood up.

"Alright, I'll play, but I don't want to take your money. Why don't we just say that the loser buys the winner a drink?" He was trying to placate me, probably figuring that when I lost he would just get me drunker and possibly take me home with him.

"Why don't you buy me a drink now, and I'll bet you $150 that I will win the game?" I said with purposefully slurred words while poking his chest teasingly.

"Is she serious?" He asked looking at Gaston, but Gaston held up his hands in a shrug before turning his attention back to the redhead.

"I can speak for me-for my- for myself! And yes, I'm cereal—shit—I mean serious!" I said with a forced laugh.

"Alright sweetheart." He said picking up a cue stick. He probably thought it would be the easiest $150 he made. I let a slow smirk cross my face.

. . .

I let him think he had a chance. I had to keep up the drunk-girl charade long enough for him to think that I was lucking into my shots, because if he thought I had played him for the fool he was I probably would get kicked out of the bar again. People tend to remember your face when that happens and it makes it harder to sucker anyone else in.

"I told you I'd win." I said giving the astonished looking blonde a kiss on the cheek while taking my money out of his hand.

As I put my cue stick down I could see that Gaston was face deep in the redhead from earlier. I really didn't feel like loitering now that I had this guy's cash—didn't want him to call a rematch, or worse, to ask for my number. I got a few free drinks and made $150—all in all, a good night.

I grabbed my coat and headed for the exit.

I was window-shopping on my way home, mostly because it gave me an excuse to stop walking and regain my balance. I know I had been pretending to be _super_ drunk, but I actually did have quite a bit to drink.

I finally came across a window that had no display. The blinds were drawn shut and a simple 'closed' sign was hanging in the door window. Small and unremarkable letters spelled out "Mr. Gold Pawnbroker & Antiquities Dealer" across the center of the window.

I had heard an awful lot about Mr. Gold. He owned pretty much everything in town—even Gaston paid his rent to Mr. Gold.

He was quite a mysterious man. He was always around, but he never seemed to interact with people; well, at least not about personal matters. I heard people call Mr. Gold a soulless beast who was only interested in his money and making other people miserable. He was probably the most interesting person stuck in this god-forsaken town. The more I thought about him the more I wanted to officially meet him.

I felt myself turning the doorknob to his shop, but was disappointed to find it locked. He was probably at home. It must have been late; I wasn't keeping track of time at the bar.

I spun around to continue home but someone knocked into me as I did.

"Watch it." I said grumpily teetering as I tried to regain my balance in these heels. I looked up to see none other than Sheriff Graham.

Shit. He was pretty easy-going, but he was still the sheriff and I was pretty drunk.

"You have some nerve talking to the sheriff like that." I heard a female voice scold.

I hadn't even noticed that he wasn't alone. Perhaps I was a little more drunk than I thought.

I looked at the woman who had yelled at me, and blinked slowly as I realized that she was the mayor. Her facial expression didn't match the tone of her voice, though. Instead of dignified rage I saw shock and slight horror as she looked at me and then back to the pawn shop.

I tried to figure out why she would be upset with me. I hadn't really interacted with Mayor Mills before, but maybe she was appalled by my clothes—which wouldn't be hard to believe given the grandmother-length skirt and stuffy-business jacket she was wearing. Or maybe she thought I was doing business with the pawnbroker, since she kept looking back at his shop front.

"How did you get **here**?" She asked me.

"I walked." I said pointing at my feet in confusion; apart from the sheriff cruiser there wasn't a single car on the street.

I could see that she was pretty upset about something and I was starting to wonder if it even had anything to do with me. It was pretty late for the Sheriff and the Mayor to be having a professional meeting…

I just needed to get out of there before they asked me too many questions. I was trying to carefully construct an apology for bumping into the sheriff that would also allow me to continue on home, but before I could speak again the mayor pointed at me and ordered Graham to "arrest _that woman_ for being drunk and disorderly."

"Whoa! Suddenly it's illegal to bump into someone?" I yelled outraged. I had never been arrested before, and I had done some pretty unscrupulous things in the past.

Graham gave me an apologetic smile and pulled out his cuffs.

"Wait! Can't we talk about this?" I asked desperately and Graham hesitated, but Mayor Mills pushed him toward me saying, "Hurry up, Graham, before she makes a scene!"

I felt the cold metal of the handcuffs on my wrists and started yelling. I could definitely make a scene if that was what she was so afraid of.

"This isn't fair! What grounds are you arresting me on? You haven't even tested me for alcohol! This can't be legal!"

I felt Graham fumbling to get me quickly into the backseat of the cruiser and off the streets. Once the door was closed he walked over to the mayor and continued talking to her. She looked furious, which gave me a little satisfaction since she ordered me to be arrested for reasons I couldn't understand yet.

I leaned my forehead against the window as I looked out at Mr. Gold's shop. The blinds on the door were crooked and in the darkness I thought I saw a face looking out into the street before the sheriff hopped in the car and pulled away taking me back to the station.


End file.
